Adrift in Time
by A Curious Stranger
Summary: Terry Mcginnis has never felt so weird, sent back 50 years with no clue how to act, he has no idea how to go home, and how to keep his secrets. But making sure everything stays secret is going to be the challenge when everyone is after him.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer- I don't own Batman Beyond or Justice League Unlimited. They belong to Detective Comics

* * *

"You're unusually quiet," said Bruce Wayne.

Terry McGinnis, also known as Batman, didn't even bother raising his head at the unseen voice, instead continuing to work studiously at the old-fashioned locks as he answered eloquently, "What?"

"I mean," Wayne said patiently, "that normally you'd be filling up the comm with all sorts of chatter. Got anything in mind?"

Batman let out a sigh of triumph as the lock snapped open only to groan as behind the latch, a new series of electronic locks gleamed. Silently cursing security companies and their near paranoid installations, Batman lifted the pad to reveal the workings of the alarm and raised a finger to a system as the omnicomputer installed into his Batsuit began to slice its way in. "I've been thinking about a friend. Well, not my friend, but his dad. Step-dad I mean. Big-"

"Armory."

"That's him," Terry said with annoyance," You know it wouldn't kill you to call him by his real name."

"Somehow I doubt Big Jim is the name printed on the birth certificate. Besides, always keep things impersonal. Saves a lot of trouble," Bruce said.

"You'd be the expert right?" Terry deadpanned. "But anyway, I've been thinking. He gets out of Jail soon, but no one's going to hire him. So why don't we-"

Bruce cut in curtly, "Wayne-Powers is not going to rehire him."

"Thanks for letting me finish. What I meant was, why don't we as in Batman hire him? I was looking through the old records in the computer and it's not like you haven't done something like that before. Earl Cooper did a good job, and besides he's good at other stuff besides lethal weaponry. That goo gun of his was pretty good against me, and he knows his way around cars."

"Hmm, it is tempting," Bruce admitted.

"I know right?" Terry grinned. "And-"

"Which is why I've already started to reroute some funds and cleared out a workshop," Bruce finished.

"…You never let me do anything," Terry said in his most childish voice.

"I'm letting you track down the rogue scientist McGinnis."

"Yeah yeah. S.T.A.R. Labs nutcase, escaped with experimental supplies, wants to make a Time Machine."

"Time Travel isn't a dream," reminded Bruce.

"Yeah, Static's bad jokes proved that," said Terry. "Aha! Gotya," he said as the computer finally finished. Batman removed the panel into the old warehouse and made his way in through the maintenance shaft. He moved down as far as he dared before he looked through the slitted viewpoints.

"What do you see?" asked Bruce.

A test of course. Another way for Terry to test his burgeoning detective skills.

"Cot at the southeast corner, looks like it hasn't been used though. Some rations bars, already eaten, old passage that looks like a bathroom… and of course, the big honking machine right there and the crazy old guy working on it."

"Personal effects, what about the warehouse itself?"

"Old manufacturing plant meant for building circuit boards. Shut down after Powers outsourced to India a decade ago. Looks like the good Doctors' got the power running though," Terry noted.

"Well spotted," Bruce said approvingly. "And the Doctor? Tell me about him."

"Walker Gabriel, age 54. Graduated top of his class from the University of Metropolis, and completed postgraduate work at U.C. Berkeley. Joined S.T.A.R. Labs right out of graduation and hasn't looked back. Unmarried, no children. As lonely as you can get. Anyway, guy's pet project has been time travel and finally he just snapped a few days ago after being dismissed. Grabbed everything that wasn't nailed down and worked his way over here where S.T.A.R. Labs doesn't have any influence. The Justice League decided to foist this on me because they have better things to do than slum it out in Gotham."

"Thank you for your commentary on his life and yours. Stick to the facts next time besides, looking at the stolen parts, it looks like he took some tritium with him. If he uses it carelessly, he can take down a quarter of the city," Bruce rapped.

The next few minutes passed by silently as Terry worked his way into a dark corner and waited for a chance to pounce the scientist. The man was obviously high-strung and every few minutes, a free hand patted a coat pocket reassuringly. The size and bulge suggested a compact laser pistol, not something Terry would have normally worried about, but for all he knew it might have been some prototype antimatter rifle or anything else that could punch through his suit.

Better to wait and look for a good time to take down the man. Patience was something not many people would have figured Terry McGinnis to have, but it had been something Batman had been forced to learn quickly. All the bruises and bumps he'd gotten from being just a half-second too fast had taught him that lesson well. Luckily for him, the scientist seemed to be on the verge of completion. Gabriel's surprisingly steady hands attached the last circuit board in before he welded in the steel plates to cover up the vulnerable insides.

As machines went, Terry had seen better assembled ones in his shop class. The whole thing looked like it was on the verge of falling apart, with the only remotely stable looking portion a clear and open sphere of glass balanced on a metal stand. Sparks began to finally die down as the old man lifted his protective mask and shoved the welder aside. He started laughing at his success and finally calmed down enough to place his laser pistol on an unmoving conveyer belt that doubled as a worktable. Having been working for the better part of three days, the man finally turned and yawned.

Batman couldn't have been given a better opening even if had been giftwrapped.

A single tackled had the man pinned against the manufacturing belt far from the laser pistol. "Sorry Doctor, but I have to bring you in," Batman said keeping his grip fairly loose. After all, it wasn't like he wanted to hurt the guy or anything.

Gabriel didn't even bother to argue, instead bringing up a knee to try and force Batman away. Batman idly took a step back to dodge the poorly placed knee only to be surprised by an electric shock.

"Wh-what?" He asked dumbly.

The doctor's watch was sparking. "Something we designed for the NSA," Gabriel said in answer to Batman's questioning look. "Made as a last ditch protection device. Only good for a one time use," he explained as a hand reached into a pocket and activated a remote. The factory came alive and a set of sparking things Terry had no name for lunged for his body. Terry backflipped away from the writhing machine only to be blasted back from a laser shot. The suit took most of the impact, but Terry still reeled.

He'd been trying to take it easy on the old man, but Terry knew he had to finish things quick. He took a smoke bomb from his belt and hurled it at the ground as his rebreather came up. The coughs made from the aging Doctor made it simple to pinpoint him, but sheer luck saved the man as a one of the factory's welders punched into Batman's stomach, and threw him into Time Machine. The impact shuddered the whole frame, and the already shoddily made machine took the blow as a sign to activate. The glass sphere shut and an ominous countdown timer started.

"Doctor," Batman rumbled threateningly.

"I-I'm sorry Batman, but there's nothing I can do. It's a failsafe," he said quietly.

For his part, Batman tore off the electric saw installed in his belt and began to try and cut his way out, only for the saw to make little, if any headway.

"The glass, it's from the new S.T.A.R. Labs Space Division. It's designed for the new spaceships. Your saw can't cut through it," the Doctor said sheepishly. Undeterred, Batman ripped out a plastic explosive before wrapping a length of detcord. But the machine had now begun to glow an unearthly white, and the Batsuit couldn't block out the light entirely. Just as the machine activated to full power, Batman triggered the explosives, only to make the slightest of holes.

Too late though, as unearthly forces began to distort the space around him. The now broken glass let in energy which played havoc with the Batsuit's electronics and the last thing Batman heard before he vanished completely was a panicked "Terry!" from his mentor. And then he was gone.

* * *

"Uungghh," Batman murmured as he slowly came to. His vision was completely dark as his suit had gone offline. The tightly packed electronics in the suit loosened enough that he looked like some fool wearing a poncho too big for him before Batman rebooted the suit. As soon as his HUD came up, he whispered, "Wayne, are you there?"

Receiving no answer, Batman tried again a few more times before considering the possibility that he was out of range before coming to the conclusion that the electric shock had shorted out the communicator. Nothing he couldn't handle. Of course, his opinion changed as he looked at where he was. A simple alley yes, but he'd fought Gabriel in the warehouse district where there was nothing like this close to his current location.

Terry idly wondered if Gabriel had driven his body out here to dump him in the trash before looking up.

…Well that was unexpected.

He wasn't in Gotham anymore, that was for sure. What should have been massive skyscrapers and megablocks was instead replaced by a dark night sky. Unless he was on the very outskirts of Gotham, something he doubted very much, he'd been transported somewhere completely different. He idly ran his mind through all the major cities: Gotham, Metropolis, Washington D.C. Hub City, Keystone City, New York City, and so forth. None of them fit his idea of their skyline. Every single major city in the world had adopted the megablock system years ago.

So either he was in some kind of suburban area, which he doubted very much, or the Time Machine had worked. Probably.

"Great," Terry moaned, "Max is never going to let this go."

Just to comfort himself, Batman checked his inventory as much as he could. All of the integrated electronics had seemingly made it through the surge, Terry put that down to the old man's Ragnarok proofing, and he was completely full on Batarangs and grenades besides the smoke he'd just used. And he still had most of the plastic explosives as well. The only thing he worried about was the rocket fuel used in his boots. 95% was more than good enough for a long patrol, but somehow he doubted he'd find much more that easily even if he really was in the past. Terry considered his options before deciding to climb. Heights always made him feel better, and he might be able to get some better bearings. He stretched his claws and began his climb. Reaching the top, he looked around as much as he could before realizing he had no idea where he was. This might have been Gotham, it might not have been. He'd never been one for architectural history and just about all of Old Gotham had been demolished.

He climbed up a few more buildings, gaining height each time before something finally caught his attention. A shabby looking man had just taken a woman into a dark alley. Grinning at the chance to relieve some frustration, Terry opened his gliders and let loose.

* * *

Jimmy "Hotshot" Wilkins, named for his terrible aim with guns, was having a fine night. He'd gotten pretty liquored up at the bar that evening and everything had a nice tinge around it. He'd spotted a pretty young thing looking around her carefully with a nice fat purse in her arms.

He whistled to himself off-key as he took out a dirty rag he'd nicked off the bar and doused it in a bottle of chloroform he kept at all times, just in case he ran into easy marks. Despite his name, he wasn't all that violent, mostly because he wasn't good at it. He couldn't aim to save his life and all his trysts with knives ended up with him getting a scar not worth bragging about.

The girl's body slacked and he dragged her into the alley, giving a quick thieves' check, making sure to admire her ass as he did so. Nothing in her pockets, so he went for the purse next. Or at least that had been the plan before he felt something jerk at his leg and he went flying into the air. Jimmy closed his eyes hoping he wouldn't puke up all the booze he drank until the shaking and general movement stopped, though he couldn't help but note that he was apparently upside down. Gathering his wits, he threatened "You know who the hell you're dealing with? This is Hotshot here," as he kept his eyes shut.

"I'm sure," came a voice like thunder, frightening Jimmy enough to scrunch open his eyes. Immediately, he wished he hadn't done so. A black face with white eyes that seared into his soul stared out at him.

"You."

"M-me?" Jimmy whimpered.

"What year is this?" came a smooth voice.

Jimmy blinked at the unexpected question, "What?"

That was apparently the wrong answer as the monster's grip loosened and Jimmy felt himself drop. "2008! I swear it's 2008."

The thing tightened his grip.

"One more question. Where am I?"

"Y-you lost mate?" Jimmy said hoping to make the creature relax. It didn't work as it only narrowed its eyes and its fingers began to relax around his leg again.

"Star City! We're in Star City, home to the best Hot Dogs around, and and, uh, the Bridge! It's a pretty neat-" he panicked.

The thing shook him. Jimmy got the hint and shut up. He fought down the nausea with herculean effort before he finally asked the question on his mind. "Who-who are you?"

"I'm Batman."

The man carefully glanced at Batman's chest, noting the logo before saying a quiet "Oh."

The events of the night caught up to him and Jimmy "Hotshot" Wilkins fainted dead away.

* * *

Terry could only sigh at the thug's prone form. He'd been informative sure enough, but now he had a whole new set of problems to deal with. 2008… Terry was sure credits weren't being used then, which meant the emergency 500 creds he kept in his utility belt were useless. And that meant he was out of luck when it came to clothes or finding a ride to Gotham.

If nothing else, Terry guessed he could take the drunk's clothes. The man would be out for a while, and it was a warm night. He made his decision and reached for the Hotshot's body before he suddenly stopped.

The miracles of stress and cheap beer had loosened his bladder to the point where Hotshot had done the inevitable. He'd pissed his pants with enough urine to soak down to the cement rooftop. Grateful he'd stopped in time, Terry just stared at Hotshot in disgust.

"Gross, God, what the- jeez you'd think people would, ugh," Terry said before getting up. Scratch one set of clothes. Batman was going over there thank you very much.

He jumped to another roof. The night was still young, and Terry McGinnis still needed to find a damn shirt. Preferably with comfy jeans.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer- Don't own Batman Beyond or JLU, belongs to DC

* * *

Star City had beautiful nights. The light from the skyscrapers were bright yes, but the light of the stars still managed through the light pollution, and the vibrant city seemed to twist and turn like it was alive.

Not that such things mattered to the two men on top its highest building. One of the men was talking to the other, who seemed far more interested in his meal of fast food.

"So then Dinah calls me arrogant. Can you believe that? Me?" Green Arrow asked indignantly.

The other man, perfectly normal looking, just sipped his soft drink, "Hole in O, Donut Shop. 500 meters."

Grumbling, Green Arrow obligingly readied his bow and let it fly, his frustrations relieved by speaking them out loud. "And I can't believe you of all people love Burger King. Don't massive Fast Food conglomerations come up in those crazy theories of yours?"

Looking through a set of binoculars, Question nodded approvingly at Ollie's dead aim before answering, "Theory. Singular. And yes they do, doesn't mean I can't enjoy the food. Not everyone is a billionaire."

"Whatever, I think I've had my fill of target practice for the night, hand me a Whopper," Arrow said as he sat down next to what was probably the oddest choice for a friend he could make.

The next few minutes were filled with the sounds of munching before Arrow asked, "Isn't this nice? Sitting around and not chasing after breadcrumbs of illusionary conspiracies? What were you even doing before I called you over?"

Question had actually been working on data analysis for the Batman when he'd gotten Ollie's call to 'hang out.' He'd been number crunching what had seemed like valuable information when he accepted the invitation. "I bought a new pair of shoes. Was snipping off the aglets."

"I don't even want to know. I'm surprised you even took the invitation to be honest. Huntress looked like she was monopolizing all your time," Arrow said between bites.

Question shrugged, "Needs the sleep. Took down a big mob boss three days ago. Wanted to give her some time to recover. Why? Interested in my girlfriend now that Canary's left you?"

"Pft, hardly. Dinah and I were meant to be buddy, just need to give her some time to calm down," Ollie said cheerfully. He opened his mouth the continue when a scream pierced the night air.

The two men didn't hesitate, as Question put on his pseudoderm mask and Green Arrow dashed to the next building.

* * *

Terry had heard the scream and arrived just in time to see the situation. One man threatening a couple with a knife, another rummaging through the bags and wallet, and finally, one more acting as a lookout with a baseball bat ready. All this ran through Batman's mind in an instant and he took half a second to get the angle right.

He hurled a Batarang and jumped down, landing right on the man going through the bags hard enough to knock him unconscious while the batarang knocked the knife away from the other, giving Batman the chance to crack his skull into the brick wall before he weaved through the lookout, came behind up, and grabbed him in a classic choke hold. All this had taken just six seconds, and Batman simply tightened his grip while telling the unfortunate couple to leave.

They didn't hesitate, both stopping only to grab their things before running. Lookout finally stopped struggling and Batman let him go. He ripped out his batarang first before he grabbed their wallets to get whatever petty cash he could find, clucking in disapproval at how bulky paper money was compared to credits, before he examined the men for their clothes. Knifeman looked like he was around his size, and Bagboy had shoes that looked like they'd fit. Making his decision, Batman began to pull off Bagboy's shoes, only to be stopped in his tracks at a new voice.

"You know, I'm sure the couple back there are happy you saved them, but vigilantes shouldn't steal from criminals. Makes them look like scum," said a cavalier man in green tights. His companion, a fedora clad man with no face just looked on without a word.

"Nice costume though, who are you supposed to be?" asked Arrow.

"Batman."

This earned him a snort from the tights clad man as he said, "Sure. By the way, I'm Emerald Pikeman, and this is my stalwart sidekick Noface."

"You have a bow," Batman pointed out.

"Damn, caught in my lies, guess that teaches me," said the Robin Hood figure. "But seriously, you probably shouldn't dress as Batman. The moody bastard takes things way too seriously. Might hunt you down. Besides, your voice is way too young. Are you even in college?"

"Of course," Robin Hood continued, "That might be why you're here in Star City instead of Gotham. Either way, I think I'm going to have to take you in. You don't steal. Even if it is from dirtbags like these."

"You can try," Batman said before rocketing up the building. The man looked confident enough in his archery skills, and there was no telling what the blank faced man was capable of. Best to stun or neutralize them before getting out of dodge as fast as possible. Chances were that if he tried to run without fighting, he might just get shot down for his trouble.

A jet propelled tackle brought Robin Hood, as Batman started referring to the archer, to the ground as he began to talk. "So tell me Robin Hood, how does the ground feel?"

"Delicious, how about you get a taste," the man snapped back as Noface smashed a hammerblow that left Batman reeling. Not even hesitating, the man followed up with a savage kick that floored Batman before he prepared to stomp on any appealing target, only for Batman to reach out and using his augmented strength, twist his leg so that Noface collapsed on himself. Batman got up only to shudder from the three impact arrows pumped lightning fast by the archer. He shrugged off the attacks with some difficulty before preparing a flashbang when Noface got back into the game.

A tackle to his legs brought Batman down before he struggled up again, this time going directly in hand to hand against Noface. He was good, Batman realized, feinting expertly and giving precise blows. He pivoted and snapped a leg at the man's groin, only to be blocked and forced back a few paces.

"You fight dirty," Batman said.

"So do you," said Noface, the first words he'd heard all night from the man.

"I fight to win," Batman answered as he blocked another punch.

Noface countered an attack with a grab to shove Batman back before grunting "What a coincidence. I do too," and managed to pin Batman to the rooftop access before shouting "Now Arrow!"

A net flew in and pinned one of Batman's arms against the wall, as the barbs beside him sank deep into the concrete. A second pinned his legs. Taking his immobilization as a sign of victory, Noface stepped back, though he made sure to keep Batman in sight.

"Alright," Arrow started, "That was a pretty good fight, but it's over now. Those nets are made from a new flexible alloy made recently. Just-"

He was interrupted as Batman pulled free his saw blade and let the monomolecular edge do its work against the net, cutting his way free in seconds.

"Okay, I'm impressed, but how about this?" Arrow said as he let loose a gas arrow, hoping the smoke would leave his enemy senseless.

He peered into the smoke, though he stayed away from it as much as he was able, before a fist punched into his face and left him reeling while Noface put his arms in a ready stance. Batman had gone through the gas attack just fine as his rebreather began to retract.

"Oh come on," Arrow complained as he rubbed his jaw.

"Anything else?" Batman dared.

Noface answered, "Try this," as a metal pipe slammed into Batman's kidneys. Even through the impact dispersing effects of the suit, Terry still felt his eyes pop before he could control himself. The hefty pipe was apparently too heavy for Noface though as his arms dropped while he tried to keep his grip. Hoping the pipe would slow him down, Batman hurled a flashbomb before turning on his camo and jumped off the rooftop, confident he'd done enough damage to keep them from a chase, before wincing in pain as he clutched his sides. Gah, he'd be lucky if he wasn't pissing blood at the end of the night. Spying a darkened alley, he made his way in before climbing up a fire escape stairway and broke a window into an abandoned apartment complex.

"Ungh," Arrow said as he popped his jaw back into place, "That could have gone a lot better don't you think?"

Question didn't answer, only looking down where the Batman-like figure had disappeared. Measuring each word, he finally replied "We should call the League."

"What for a scab like that? Come on, we had him and might still catch up,"

"Too well outfitted. That suit, very technological, I could feel it hardening when I punched, and I could hear servos whenever he grabbed me. Technology like that… such power in so tiny a frame, it's not even on the design boards of any military I've heard of." Question said.

"Well yeah but-" Ollie began.

"Also, lots of gadgets. His casual use of them implies he has many in stock. It's expensive. Raises lots of questions… you call. Sounds better from you," Question said as he rubbed a particularly sore area. Oh that would be a beautiful bruise.

Green Arrow pulled out his League communicator, "Hello Terrific? This is Green Arrow. I need to report a rogue vigilante. Someone calling himself Batman… Yes I know Batman is on our side, this is someone else… Yes I am with Question but… No I am not hallucinating! You can't just accuse… I don't care if you're in charge there, I'm still a member! I have rights damn it… It's people like you that make me worry about the world, always trampling the little guy. What? What? Fine, I'll see you. And I'll damn well make sure I have an arrow with your name on it."

Arrow hung up in disgust, saying "He didn't believe me."

"Unfortunate, not unexpected."

"Yeah…" a few seconds passed before Arrow asked a question. "Hey, remember back when I beat the crap out of you when you were working with Huntress?"

"Yes."

"How come you didn't fight like that today? Were you holding back that day?"

"Of course. Didn't want you hospitalized. You're a good man Ollie, just stubborn."

"…Thanks?" Arrow asked, unsure of the backhanded compliment.

"Welcome, let's go."

The night was still young. And they had a Batman to catch.

* * *

In an abandoned apartment, Batman nursed his wounds as gingerly as he could. He hadn't broken anything, but the kidney shot had hurt, and was debating what to do. As much as he hated to admit it, at times like these, he always wondered what Wayne would do.

'Suck it up McGinnis.'

Yeah, that sounded about right.

Slag, it still stung though. Terry massaged his side while he ordered the computer to bring up history files to try and distance himself from the pain. Even though Bruce had stopped wearing the Batsuit, he'd continually upgraded it whenever possible with the cutting edge technology Wayne-Powers could create. As a result, the onboard computer had a storage capacity of up to 60 Petabytes, with around 40 of them used to control the suit and all of its peripherals including a complex auto fuction that could be used in case Terry was incapacitated. All that aside, 20 Petabytes was still an impressive amount of space, and Wayned had made sure he kept up to date news files and tutorials for Terry such as lockpicking guides and such. Even then however, the majority of the 20 Petabytes was used to record all of Terry's actions in as great detail as Wayne could coax out of the suit.

The only thing Wayne had really skimped on was history, as only one past memory truly mattered to the man, with old superheroes given perhaps only five or six lines of text and a picture. It was tedious work, narrowing down who he'd seen, but Terry had nothing better to do. He'd covered his tracks as well he could, and it had been enough to impress even the old man back in the future. He'd bought himself a few hours from whatever tracking methods the two other heroes would use.

Coming to who he'd seen, Terry winced at who he'd just assaulted. Mayor Oliver Queen of Star City aka the Green Arrow. Wonderful, he'd just gone and busted the jaw of a public official. That was… yeah, Max was never going to hear about this little adventure. The other man, Question, also known as Victor Sage or Charles Victor Szasz was also a member of the League and a good enough detective to make Terry worry about his safety.

Only one thing left to do now if he wanted to go home. He'd have to go and beg the Justice League to try and find a time machine. Wonderful, and here he'd thought he saw the last of Time Travel after getting help from Static in that Kobra incident. The only problem was he had no way of contacting the League unless he waltzed up the Green Arrow and Question to ask for help, and after the beating they'd given each other, Terry doubted either would be inclined to listen.

Well, thinking about it, Terry did have one more option. A hand strayed to an isolated pouch where it hovered before it opened. Inside was a simple looking watch, but it was a one of a kind. Inside was a generator developed by Kryptonian hands to create a frequency that only Superman could hear. It was such a small thing, but so powerful too. And there was no way to predict how the Superman of this time would react to him having the damn thing.

Horrible images of Superman assuming he'd stolen the watch surged through his eyeballs before Terry waved them away. Still, Superman was the only real chance he had of help. Batman clambered onto the rooftop and made sure his back was to the wall before he held the watch up.

Now how was he supposed to use this thing anyway? The little nibs to the side didn't do much but adjust the supposed time and… ah, a latch clicked open to reveal the button… Was he supposed to press it once or hold it down? Screw it, Batman held it down and waited before turning on a clockwatch for kicks.

Two minutes, forty-three seconds later Superman announced his arrival with a gust of wind.

Batman could only stare at the figure in front of him, last he'd seen, the Man-God had been so bitter, so tired, that he'd imprisoned Lex Luthor into the worst prison known to man without a second though before leaving for space. But here, everything was different.

His hair was all black, his face had no age lines, and was in fact cut into an impressive figure, but what got the Batman the most was just how open his face was. Superman in his time had been so guarded after having his life taken over by that Starfish (Terry called it Starro in his mind to try and make the bad memories better) but here, the man was an open book. He was angry. Really angry.

"I, uh, catch you at a bad time Superman?" Batman asked.

Superman's only response was to narrow his eyes.

"Guess so," Terry answered himself, "I need your help."

"Who are you, and why do you have that watch? You have three seconds," grated the Last Kryptonian.

"You gave it to me," Batman replied.

"Funny, I don't remember doing that. In fact, that watch belongs to a good friend of mine. One of my best. I checked up on him to make sure he was alright before coming here, but somehow here you are with that unique watch."

"You did. Or rather you do, around 50 years from now," Batman said calmly.

"…Mr. Kent," he added just for good measure.

Superman's eyes widened as he whispered "You must be joking."

"Sorry, but here I am, the Batman of the Future," said Batman as he stretched out his arms theatrically.

"How did you learn my name?" Superman asked, unable to resist himself.

Batman seemed to hesitate for a moment before replying "Bruce."

It figured that the stubborn man would last that long thought Superman before carefully measuring each word, "I still can't believe you. Not yet."

Batman nodded, having predicted that much, but Superman continued "But I can take you to the Watchtower where I can learn the truth. We can take things from there. Is that alright?"

Smiling beneath his mask, Terry agreed.

* * *

"You know, you seem a lot more open than Bruce."

"He's reached the pinnacle of distrust and paranoia. I've resigned myself to never coming close no matter how hard I try."

* * *

So, that's it for Chapter 2. Hope you all enjoyed. Don't expect to see too much action for the next few chapters though. But don't worry. Terry's going to find himself kicked around soon enough.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Batman Beyond or JLU. They belong to DC

* * *

Superman took out a communicator to call the Watchtower but hesitated before making the call.

"You don't want to be seen do you?" he asked. It was entirely reasonable, Bruce had prided himself (as much as Clark could tell anyway) on keeping his own existence an urban legend before he finally let himself be photographed, and Superman had no doubt this future Batman felt the same.

Nodding, Batman answered "It'd be best if no one sees me. Might bring up some uncomfortable questions I'd rather not answer."

Worked for Superman. He took a few moments to get a secure channel before waiting for Mr. Terrific to pick up. He didn't have to wait for long.

"Watchtower, this is Superman. I need to secure a Javelin and an empty hanger and hallway leading to… whatever room that's secure and empty."

"A Javelin?" asked Terrific, "I don't know if I have any left. We've been using the teleporters mostly, and had to cut back on the Javelins to save some money. It looks like… sorry, but seven are on deep space missions and the rest are being used for rescue missions in Southeast Asia to help in rescue efforts. The teleporter's all we have left."

"No way to force the technicians out of the room?" Superman asked knowing it couldn't be done.

"No, but I have gotten you a room. I can upload a route on your communicator. Just watch the screen. Sending the upload now."

Superman noticed Batman inching over to check it out, and saw his eyes narrow obviously debating what he should do.

"Can you clear the hallways then? Just for a few minutes?"

"That can be done," said Terrific confidently.

Batman was quiet after the conversation, though his eyes constantly checked the route, calculating times. He looked up as Superman started to talk again.

"The Watchtower is the only safe place really. I can't take you home, and Batman, uh Bruce that is, would be even a worse choice until I'm sure you're not lying," he said though Batman caught the unspoken words of 'I can't trust you in my home,'

"My cloaking device is good for a three minute charge before it needs to stop. If the cameras can be turned off, I can use the cloak to get out of the room."

"But the teleporter's going to short out anything like that. It's a security measure, and the cameras in the main room don't shut down. And they can see Infrared spectrums and so much more," Superman explained.

"I can handle it," came the confident reply.

Superman hesitated only for a moment, obviously trying to figure out what Batman could have up his sleeves before agreeing and calling up Mr. Terrific. With a press of a button, the two superheroes vanished into thin air only to reappear thousands of miles up in space.

Without even waiting for the excess energy from the teleportation to disperse, Batman hurled a flash bomb and an EMP grenade before turning on his camo. The explosive was strong enough to blind everyone in the room for a few seconds while the surge shorted out all of the cameras, while leaving the most important monitors and workstations stable due to their EMP hardening.

Superman, incensed at Batman's action, turned to face him only to feel a jab at his side. Nothing painful of course, but enough to make him remember the two were on a schedule. He started to move as casually as he could, furiously gathering just how badly he would tell off the man before Terrific came up to him with a pistol in hand.

"Superman!"

"Surprised? I told you I was coming up." He said.

"The teleporter… I guess it must have struck a short. I'll get the techs on it, strange that it could have caused such an outage though…" Terrific allowed before turning to let Superman pass. "The cameras have been turned off and the hallways cleared like you asked."

"Thank you," Superman said blandly. "Please, tell J'onn to come by if you see him."

As soon as the door was shut, he hissed out "Just what were you thinking?"

"Insurance. Besides, I chose a low power charge. Max strength would have had them on the floor and deaf," Batman replied casually.

"You-you…" Superman was speechless. He thought of pushing the matter before realizing the apology he wanted was probably not worth the price going to be asked and that Bruce himself would be proud of what had been done. This was going to be just fantastic. Two Batmen, each seemingly as paranoid as the other.

Batman faded back in to the visible spectrum a few minutes before they reached the room and reached into his belt again.

"Another bomb?" asked Superman sardonically.

"Just something to sweep for bugs."

"Terrific and I told you the room was clear." Superman tried to reassure.

Batman apparently thought otherwise as he chucked the device in as soon as the Superman keyed in the passcode. He waited a few seconds as the scanner pulsed and fed its results to his computer before turning on his camo once again. Superman just watched as Batman teased no less than three cameras and two recorders before crushing them in his palm.

"Bruce…" Superman whispered in rage. Oh he was going to have words with that paranoid freak.

"Guess I was right," Batman rubbed in. "Now what?"

"We'll get J'onn, the Martian Manhunter if that's how you know him, here to check you out."

They spent a few more awkward minutes in silence before Superman heard the Martian's light footsteps. Upon hearing that Superman had needed him, the Martian had come as fast as he could only to stop dead in his tracks at the sight in front of him as he opened the door.

"Surprise," said Batman cheekily.

He leaned back against the wall appraising the new hero while Superman quickly gave J'onn the facts as he knew them.

The alien's red eyes looked into Batman's white ones before asking his permission to read his mind.

"Only if you find out if I'm telling the truth or not. Can't risk you knowing the future," said Batman seemingly checking his nails. An incredibly stupid action considering his all body suit, but one that annoyed Superman and the Manhunter both.

J'onn steeled his mind and began his telepathy only to furrow his brow. "I can't seem to access your mind," he admitted.

"Are you serious J'onn?" Superman asked. The Martian Manhunter was the most potent psychic the League had, and if even he couldn't get into Batman's mind, there was no chance anyone else could.

"Probably the cowl," Batman said. "Bruce upgraded it to try and mess with psychic attacks after I fought this school of ESP freaks. Guess it works after all," he explained.

"No, with enough concentration, I could break through, but the process will leave me weak… you will not remove the helm."

It was a statement, not a question.

"No."

"Then I can do nothing here," J'onn said. "Unless you know of another way to prove your identity."

Batman considered the words carefully before he asked a question. "Is there a hero named Static in the League? He saw me once when he timetraveled. He can back me up," Batman said confidently.

Superman and J'onn J'onzz exchanged looks before J'onn answered "That name is not known to me, but if he is public enough, the League can contact him."

"There's a hero," started Superman, annoyed at being left out of the conversation, "named Booster Gold. Claims to be from the 25th century. He had a robot called Skeets who might have information on you. Might even know a way back."

"Booster is currently on a deep space mission, though he is expected to return tomorrow afternoon, 3:00 PM Greenwich time. I'll arrange a meeting," J'onn said as he began to walk out. "In the meantime, make yourself comfortable Batman."

"We'll have to lock you in," Superman said sheepishly. "Security reasons, but either J'onn or I will bring you some breakfast tomorrow. I hope that's alright."

"Fine by me," Batman answered. "Just try and keep this thing private."

Superman nodded before walking out as well, leaving the Tomorrow Knight alone in the room.

He relaxed once he was sure no one was near him before letting himself smile at the small victory over the old man. It may have been the past version, but Bruce Wayne was still Bruce Wayne. Any little win counted in his opinion. He just wished there was a computer in the room so that he could hack into the Watchtower, and remove the scant few milliseconds of footage the cameras had likely gotten before being disrupted.

Technology 50 years ahead of time was marvelous, but even its wireless capabilities would be severely hampered by distance and the encryptions most likely used in the mainframe.

Too tired to give it all more thought, Batman swept the room once more for bugs from paranoia before collapsing on the bed. Not bothering to slide in beneath the blankets, he just made sure that his head landed on the pillow before closing his eyes. Sleep came instantly.

Several hours later, Batman got up as soon as he heard the door open to be faced with the sight of the Martian Manhunter coming in with a large tray. Embarrassed at being caught sleeping, Terry blushed underneath his mask before gesturing to J'onn to set the tray down on the desk near the bed.

With a nod of his head, the Martian left Batman in peace.

Terry smiled at the breakfast. Normally, he only had time for a piece of toast, or more often as time went on, nothing at all before he went to school, but apparently the League believe in keeping their heroes healthy and full. The spread of eggs, toast, muffins, and orange juice was nothing fancy, but they looked warm and filling.

Though the plate of Oreos and the glass of milk didn't seem like they would be a part of League breakfast…

Terry raised his mask to his nose and began to eat, unable to care about strangeness of the cookies.

A few hours later, time Terry had spent doing push-ups, crunches, and other little exertions to keep his body active, the small phone on the desk started to beep. Understanding it was no accident, Terry picked it up and heard J'onn begin to speak.

"Static has been located. He is a part-time member and has agreed to come by tonight. Booster Gold will also arrive soon. We'll meet with the both of them in Conference Room 3. Superman or I will show you the way later. I will bring you lunch soon."

And so time went on, with Terry McGinnis bored out of his mind with nothing to do.

* * *

Mr. Terrific was spending what alone time he had obsessively working at the monitors. He was a workaholic, the techs said when they felt kind. A technophile after a few drinks. But the World's Third Smartest Man had something he was interested in. Hell, he'd designed and rigorously retested and retooled the security systems of the Watchtower. Before he'd even been Mr. Terrific, Michael Holt had slaved countless hours tweaking the power, the aesthetics, and every other aspect of the Watchtower after being hired to make the damn thing.

For his systems to fail so utterly from some teleportation error, something he knew was only .0001% possible given the precise coordinates, clear skies, and three other important and seventeen minor factors calculated into the exact science of material transportation, was downright bizarre.

Oh he knew Superman hadn't come alone, that was a given considering the demands the Kryptonian had made, but just who had been taken was a mystery. He considered several World Leaders, Mob Bosses, Villains, and so forth before discarding the thought as he had no large amount of evidence to figure out just who was in the Watchtower.

If he couldn't find any now, he'd damn well rip the systems apart to see who had done it. This was professional pride at stake.

So, in front of him were the videos taken by the three cameras used at all times to cover the teleportation pad. He had roughly 2.7 seconds of footage before the cameras had shorted out. Something he swore to fix later after Wayne Enterprises sent in the cash needed for the Watchtower maintenance. He discarded most of the recordings after seeing that the cameras depicted nothing. Dividing the remaining frames, Mr. Terrific could make out what looked like another figure next to Superman, but it might have just been the lighting. The man's cape also obscured whatever other person might have been around.

He mouthed a silent curse in Swahili before cleaning whatever he could. The somewhat grainy effect after teleportation was easily taken apart under his expert commands, and he zoomed into where he thought he'd seen something. Holt frowned before darkening the display only to smile at the unmistakable figure that appeared. He repeated the process for the next few frames to see that the man vanished, although he seemingly seemed to leave a heat haze, as the air shimmered as he replayed the frames continually.

Some form of optical camouflage, Holt thought. Obviously whoever did this wanted to keep things private. He couldn't make out too much detail, only seeing a dark figure, so next he zoomed to another section where he'd seen a flash of metal. He already figured that the man had tossed a flashbang and some sort of pulse grenade, and wasn't disappointed. But none of this really meant anything…

Maybe he was looking at this from the wrong angle. Superman had come in from Star City hadn't he? Holt looked through the computerized entries for the night before remembering that Green Arrow had called in a report about a mysterious 'Batman.'

Mr. Terrific had considered the report as something not worth the brain cells to keep, but if Superman had shown up… two hours after the call, maybe there was something to it?

Assuming it WAS Batman, the man had a distinctive enough costume to catch, so he tried to match the picture to the one assigned to Batman in the League files. And finding that was a hassle in and of itself, what with Batman refusing to never let himself be photographed. But eventually it was done, but a 40% match was all Mr. Terrific could get. Just for the hell of it, Mr. Terrific zoomed in on what looked like the head. Batman's distinctive horns were the only part of him that really stood out. He might get lucky there.

…Surprise surprise. Luck really did favor the prepared. Lengthy 'ears' and an all black bodysuit… maybe Batman was testing some new equipment? Mr. Terrific made a note to himself to tell Batman that if he wanted to test his new suits, to go do it in his Batcave.

He leaned back satisfied before remembering how hungry he was after skipping lunch for this little clean-up. Signaling his retreat from his digital fortress, he left for the Cafeteria, a slight spring in his step at having caught the legendary Batman in his tracks.

* * *

"So wait," Gear said through a mouthful of pastrami, "You're telling me that Superman AND the Martian Manhunter asked you to stop by the Watchtower? And you're here eating dinner with me?"

"I am in the Tower, Sis doesn't want to give me money for food and the Watchtower pays for it all, might as well enjoy it," Virgil Hawkins, also known as Static said.

He gulped down a forkful of spaghetti before saying "Besides, I'm supposed to meet them in a conference room when they page me. I can't do anything now,"

"I wonder why they want to see you though," Gear mused. "Maybe they ran into some monster that only you can beat?"

"Get real Gear," Static brushed off. "If there was a monster, they would have made it a distress call, they-" At that moment, Statics communicator started to chime.

"Speak of the devil," Ritchie said.

Static looked at his dinner mournfully before getting up. "Save me some dinner?" he asked.

"Nah, I think I'm gonna go finish that Physics homework. I'll see you later," Gear said, waving his best friend goodbye.

Grumbling about ungrateful friends, Static made his way to the necessary conference room only to bump into a larger gold clad man.

"Oof," They both said.

"Watch where you're going," the man said. "Didn't you see Booster Gold? Or did my brilliance blind you?"

"Man whatever. Sorry for hitting you though."

Booster Gold frowned for a few seconds before bursting into a smile. "It's all good guy."

The little football like object floating next to him said "Oh good sir. I was afraid you might have grown violent."

"What me?" Booster gasped. "I got over that remember? There's better things for me to do."

"Another date tomorrow sir?"

"You know it!"

The man was interrupted as the door to the conference room swung open, and the two Superheroes and robot sidekick came face to face with Superman.

"You both made it," Supeman smiled as he turned to his side to let them in.

All of them entered only to stop in their tracks at what looked like a skinny bodysuit clad-

"Batman!" Static shouted.

"You know him?" asked J'onn.

"Yeah, I do. There was this time when I got sent to the future and saw him. What's he doing here though?" Static wondered.

"Same thing that happened to you," Batman said. "An accident with a time machine…. You've gotten old."

"Been a few years since we met. I'm in college now. Why? How long's it been for you?"

"8 months."

"Well," Superman started. "I guess you are telling the truth. But I'd like to make sure. Now, Skeets isn't it?"

The robot seemed to straighten in the air as it gave a crisp "Yessir!"

"I understand that you have a database on past Superheroes. Can you confirm Static's claims that this really is a Batman from the future? Try around 50 years from now."

The golden frame buzzed a bit before it spoke. "I do see that a Batman was reported to be active during those years. Apparently the title of Batman becomes a Legacy as-"

"Thank you Skeets," Superman said as he tried to get the machine to stop. "But knowing too much about the future might be dangerous."

"Of course sir," the Robot said as it basked in the attention.

"Now that we've confirmed that Batman is telling the truth," J'onn started. "We need to get him home. That is the second reason why we called you Booster Gold. You claim that you are from the 25th century. How did you arrive here then?"

"Ah, about that. I don't think that's going to work. I took this machine called a Time Sphere, but after I came here to the past, it went back automatically. I think it had an auto-return feature."

"How do you lose control of a time machine?" Superman asked.

"It… wasn't really mine. I uh, borrowed it to come here."

"You took a time machine for a joyride?" Batman gaped. "Fantastic, now I'm stuck here."

"That may not be the case," J'onn tried to soothe. "There may be other venues we have not tried."

"In any case, thank you both for your help. You've been invaluable. Please keep this matter a secret though. It would be problematic if news spread." Superman remarked as he opened the door.

With various comments like 'No problem,' or 'Happy to help,' the superheroes left, leaving the two founding members and a displaced Batman alone.

"It looks like you'll be here for a while. It's best if we don't tell Bruce about you. Unless you want to make your presence public, you'll have to stick to your room."

Batman made a noise of discontent before he sighed and left, following the safe path Superman had designated. "I'll see you all later then."

* * *

Static yawned as he entered his room, only to yelp as Gear hunched over on his bed, intent on a videogame.

"Weren't you doing homework or something?"

"Finished it. Superintelligence remember? So what'd they want?" Gear asked.

"Can't tell you. Hush hush," Static clammed up.

"Uh huh," Gear said not convinced. "You do realize that whatever it was about, the whole League is going to know?"

"Get out Ritchie," Static tried to brush off.

Gear paused his game and looked up. "I'm serious. You were in there with Booster Gold right? Guy's going to tell Blue Beetle, who's going to tell the whole league. Might as well tell me personally. Ted's just going to track me down and tell me himself after he hears."

"You call the Blue Beetle Ted?" Static asked amazed at the how casual Gear sounded.

"We're both genii and fans of the Knights. We bonded over a plateful of wings," Gear answered.

"Well… alright. You remember that time I got sent to the future?"

"Yeah, Batman called me over to the cave to get you out," Ritchie said slowly, beginning to connect the dots.

"Well someone came here," Static said.

"No way. You?" Ritchie asked. It seemed like a reasonable assumption. Static hadn't really talked about much else besides how cool his older self was. Well, no, there was one exception to that…

"What? No!"

"…Batman?" Gear asked, knowing that was the only other hero Static had run into.

"Bingo," Static said.

"That is… wow. I have no words." Gear said in awe.

Static opened his door. "Now will you leave Ritchie? I got to study for a test."

"Sure thing Virge," Gear said as he put his game away. "Thanks for telling me."

"You're my best friend Ritchie. I would have told you anyway. I just would have preferred it not to be right now."

Gear waved Static away as he left before chuckling. Batman. 50 Years from now. Here.

Oh the stories he must have.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I totally own DC guys. Batman Beyond and JLU belong to me. AHAHAHAHAHA... wait... this isn't Earth-3? Crap. Guess I don't then.

* * *

Just like Gear had warned, the rumor of a Batman from the future spread like wildfire. Booster had told Blue Beetle, who had told everyone else. The chatty genius was generally well liked, and could never resist the chance to tell some gossip.

At first the rumor was dismissed as unlikely, with the fact that it was Booster Gold who had been the source seemingly dooming it to oblivion. That was of course, until Green Arrow and the Question heard of it.

Though the Question's paranoia was also easily dismissed, no one knew what to say at the angry figure of the Emerald Archer as he scoured the decks and constantly poked his head around, looking for the mysterious figure. If Arrow believed in it so strongly, there might have been something to it after all.

This was not helped by Green Arrow complaining about his encounter with this alleged Batman to everyone he met, from fellow superheroes down to the lowliest grease monkeys on the station.

The man in question, Batman, was of course oblivious to all this as he'd spent the next few days in near complete isolation, with almost no contact with the outside world with the exception of the Martian Manhunter, and more rarely, Superman. More than once, Terry thought of complaining about his situation, but he couldn't deny the fact that he had allowed himself to be imprisoned so.

With the rumor mills working at full power, eventually all gossip turned to the exciting possibility of a time travelling Dark Knight.

Which of course was when Bruce Wayne entered the Watchtower, intent on grabbing using the powerful supercomputers there for his own mysterious purposes before vanishing to Gotham once more.

* * *

The Watchtower was unusually silent as Bruce teleported in, with everyone with the exception of Mr. Terrific giving him uneasy looks. The looks weren't anything special of course, Batman was well aware of just how intimidating he could be, but this time things were different.

There was an undercurrent of… amusement? Pity? Confusion? This would require some looking into. Later of course. The recent crime sprees demanded his attention. No doubt looking at the complicated patterns, it was Ra's al Ghul, but he had to be certain.

Batman walked up to Mr. Terrific who barely gave him a second glance before Batman keyed in his access code and entered his backdoor that would allow him to erase all electronic traces of him down to the camera recordings, and electronic footprints his typing would make.

"So Batman," Terrific began. "If you really want to test out new equipment, do it in Gotham please. I had the devil's time patching up all the damage you caused."

Batman didn't miss a beat as he replied "I'll keep that in mind for next time," while his mind raced to figure out what Terrific had meant. Even while his fingers glided over the keys, his brain ripped open every possible meaning of Terrific's words. It made no sense. He'd spent the last few weeks tracking down the unlikely duo of Riddler and Firefly after the two had decided to send a message of arson in Gotham. He'd barely even slept. He'd never come to the Watchtower, but at the same time, Terrific was no fool.

Mr. Terrific stared at Batman for a few seconds before laughing. "Is it- is the rumor really true? Is Booster really not making things up?"

Unaccustomed to being laughed at, Batman gave Mr. Terrific a glare strong enough to shut the man up before asking "What rumors?"

"You know Batman," started Terrific, "I've taught myself how to read microexpressions of the body. You really are curious aren't you? You never actually came by last week."

"What. Rumors?" Batman gritted out.

"That you showed up from the future," Terrific said. "Or at least some kind of student of yours did."

Batman logged out of his workstation before leaving to the cafeteria. If there was gossip like that going on, he needed to find the source and cow him into submission.

He passed by a few more technicians giving him that odd look again, not even bothering to glare back.

By pure luck, Batman came across Green Arrow muttering furiously to S.T.R.I.P.E and Stargirl and overheard the last parts of the conversation, "Some kind of saw you know? And that freaking Batarang thing was way too damn sharp. Could have killed someone."

Realizing he'd just found a clue, Batman made his way through the trio to look at Green Arrow in the face.

"Interesting conversation. Care to enlighten me?"

Looking at Batman's enraged face, Oliver Queen decided it would be best to tell the truth. "Question and I ran into some imposter acting like you down at Star City. Had the equipment for it, but I can't say he was all that great."

"What did he do to make you so angry?" Batman hissed.

"Uh," Oliver started, quickly realizing that if he admitted that the guy had nearly dislocated his jaw before vanishing so well that even Question, indisputably in the top ten list of detectives couldn't find him, chances were that Batman would be proud said, "Nothing in particular."

"Really now?" Batman started before discarding that line of thought. "Describe him."

Oliver started to hesitate until Batman finally pressed his advantage by stepping even closer and said "I'm waiting."

"Skinny I guess. All black bodysuit. Long ears. Red Bat insignia," Arrow stammered.

The description made its way though Batman's honed mind until a single possibility showed. That kid he'd seen with Green Lantern on that damnable mission.

Oh yes, it had been an exercise in frustration, time constantly rewriting itself to the point even now Batman wondered just what he had seen. If everything had been real.

But how had he gotten here, and how had he come to the watchtower… anything overt by the boy should have sent alarm bells ringing through the cave. He'd probably trained the boy well if he was meant to be his successor, but-

No. He shouldn't think of the future like that. Destiny was never set in stone, and he would be damned if he started treating the future as though it was an unstoppable force.

But only a select few would have had the capabilities to hide the other Batman from showing up from his scopes. One of the original seven. Green Lantern was on Oa, Hawkgirl would have been more likely to smash the boy's face in, Flash was too reckless and easygoing to hide him, and Diana was acting as a goodwill ambassador to the UN still. Which left Superman and J'onn.

Clark would be his first target.

"Superman," Batman breathed before stalking off.

"Wow, so uh, I don't think I want to be the boy in blue right now," Arrow admitted as he straightened his collar. Stargirl and S.T.R.I.P.E. who had been quiet the whole time could only nod in agreement.

It took Batman three minutes to corner the man. Fully aware that though Superman might have had him beat on every other category, when it came to inspiring terror, Batman was firmly in first place, he slammed the man into a bulkhead.

"Where. Is. He?"

"Batman! You're here," Superman tried, smiling disarmingly.

"Where. Is. He?"

"Bruce," Superman tried to cajole, "There's nothing for you to gain here by-"

"Getting. Tired."

Crap. At the point Batman enunciated and paused before every word, Superman knew he'd best cave in.

Sighing, Superman finally acquiesced and led Batman through the hallways, the two of them the focus of every single person in the Watchtower. All those with non-essential duties started to follow the two, that mysterious sixth sense of humans knowing whenever something interesting was happening kicking in, before Batman turned to look at them all.

Everyone found something else to do very quickly.

Minutes later, though at a pace Batman felt was far too slow, he found himself in front of one of the guest rooms the Tower kept for dignitaries. Though this was a small one, used for people they snubbed to rub in a point.

Superman punched in the code, and Batman came face to face with Batman.

The other was exactly how Bruce remembered.

"Bruce?" The other man yelped.

"You,"

"Me?"

* * *

Terry found himself choking at the sight of a young Bruce Wayne, seemingly ready to strangle him. Yes, the old man's dip in the Lazarus Pit had shown Terry hints of how the first Batman had fought, just how he had earned his reputation, but here, in the prime of his life?

Batman was terrifying. He checked his mind just then. Had he really referred to as Bruce as Batman just now? Even after he'd fought and earned that name, even to the point the old man had to admit it himself?

"This is him?" Bruce asked rhetorically.

Bruce stared at him carefully, seemingly trying to scrounge for every bit of information possible before asking Superman "How long has he been here?"

"About a week now," Superman said calmly.

"And you didn't tell me," Bruce scowled.

Superman had the audacity to look abashed before saying "You were busy in Gotham, and we figured we should try our hardest to keep this a secret. If we could have sent Batman here back to his future without you knowing, we would have."

Bruce wasn't appeased as his frown grew larger.

"You haven't done much of a good job if Green Arrow's been telling tales to everyone he's seen," Bruce accused.

"In any case… you, you're coming with me."

Bruce's tone implied that Terry was being given no choice in the matter even as he sputtered for a refusal.

Terry tried to object but found himself cut off by Bruce once again.

"If people already know you're here, and believe me, they do, you might as well hide in the Manor. The Watchtower isn't as safe as people think. Besides, I can keep an eye on you this way."

Unbelievable, 50 years in the past and Wayne still took charge without a question. Terry wasn't sure whether he should feel ashamed or insulted. And then there was the way Bruce immediately assumed Terry was familiar with him, it was like the idea that Terry was a completely different Batman, unassociated with him didn't occur to Bruce at all. He'd have to ask about that later, but first…

"Yeah? That's real nice Wayne, but how am I even going to get down there without being seen? This is kind of a busy time for the Watchtower, it's dinner time isn't it? Heroes and techies should be swarming the place," Terry argued.

In response, Bruce sized Terry up, before saying "You look about a medium. We can get you a worker's uniform and you can disguise yourself."

"You want me to take off my mask?" Terry shouted.

"It's winter," Bruce said curtly, "I'm sure there's a surgical or cough mask in the infirmary. We can just say you're sick."

"You, you-" Terry stammered.

"If it makes you feel any better, I can turn around while you change."

Oh God, Terry had never wanted to punch the old man so hard before. That settled it, this Bruce was getting a good kicking during a spar, and the Old Man definitely not getting any soup or dinner for a few days once he got back.

"Hand me some contacts while you're at it then. Green, and as bright as you can make them," Terry specified.

Bruce approved, pleased to see that the kid was familiar enough with disguises. The distinctive eyes with be the focus of any attention, and keep away inquiries from the mask.

"Well, it seems like you've got everything in hand, uh… I'll just be leaving now," Superman said nervously.

"Batman… Batman," he said before exiting.

"I'll hand you an ID card to let you leave using the teleporter along with a card with instructions that gives a secure way to access the cave later. Sit tight."

A few hours later, Bruce proved to be as good as his word and even provided a bag to hold his costume. He quickly changed into the surprisingly comfortable outfit before securing his costume and headed out. He'd studied the hallways as much as he could in the hours beforehand to make his movements seem natural, and fit in easily among the general crowd.

Making sure to cough every few moments to keep up his disguise, Terry entered the control room and keyed in his coordinates, getting approval from the board. A flash of light, and Terry was gone. He arrived at a public terminal in Metropolis, at a designated site for Watchtower workers. He switched to another set of clothes, this time casual, before putting on a wig and a baseball hat, keeping his mask and stepped on an outgoing bus.

He followed Bruce's instructions and waited in costume atop a high building, idly counting stars to pass the time before he heard Bruce's voice.

"Punctual. Well done," the other Batman said as he stood up in his jet.

"Nice plane," Terry complimented. "Mine's better."

Without waiting for Bruce to talk back, he got into plane without prompt and snapped on the military style harness. Without another word, the two sped on their way to Gotham City.

* * *

The two Batmen arrived in secret through the cave, and as Terry jumped out of the jet, he was surprised by a voice.

"Welcome back Master Bruce, and ah. The guest you spoke of," an older man, with a dignified air said.

Terry fought down the urge to ask who the man was before realizing that the man must have been Alfred, the butler Bruce spoke of fondly during his rare moments of reminiscence.

"Might I ask how you preferred to be called sir?" Alfred asked.

Before Terry could even speak back, Bruce answered for him by saying "His name is Terry."

"What? How do you know my name?" Terry asked, flabbergasted.

Bruce shot him that oh so superior look, before heading to the computer, appearing to think that even answering the question was too below his vast intelligence.

"I'm afraid that Master Bruce will most likely be indisposed for the rest of the evening, and will no doubt vex me as he insists on going out on patrol. Therefore, I believe I shall be your guide to the manor. Master Bruce, I've left you a sandwich and some tea on the desk there, do take care to eat before you leave," the butler rapped sharply.

"Hnng" Bruce grunted before distastefully grabbing hold of the plate.

"I am watching you sir," Alfred reminded.

Bruce looked at the sandwich with an expression Terry couldn't place before starting to bite down, smearing his gloves with flakes of lettuce and mustard.

Pleased, Alfred turned to face Terry once more before saying "I'm sure you are hungry as well. Any preference sir? I have some Kobe beef in stock if you would desire something heavy, or I could make you another sandwich like Master Bruce."

"Um, a sandwich sounds good," Terry said, too baffled by the situation to say much more.

"To the kitchen then."

Terry's knowledge of the mansion as he intentionally skipped ahead didn't to faze the older man at all. Unflappable seemed to be the word for describing him. The butler seemed to have faced too many things to even be bothered by some man dressed up as a bat. Well, considering he DID work for the original that made a lot of sense.

Though professional, the two kept up some small talk, and even Terry dropping the bombshell that he was from the future didn't even do so much as raise the other man's eyebrows.

Feeling at home in the manor, even if the was the past, Terry casually mentioned Bruce's fond memories of the butler, this time receiving a small smile, as Alfred said "It is good to know that I leave Master Bruce memories he enjoys after my passing. Heaven knows he doesn't need any more bad ones."

Terry was surprised by the blatant acceptance of the man's future death only to see him say without prompting, "I have lived a long life Master Terry. It's only expected that I will be gone soon. Don't worry sir, you've just brought a deal of comfort to this old soul. If I had gone violently, Master Bruce would have never mentioned me."

Arriving at the kitchen, Alfred first made Terry some tea, which Terry admitted was even better than the old man's finally made the butler glow with pride.

"Master Bruce," Alfred confided, "is capable of burning water. The fact that he manages to even create a decent tasting cup will probably be my finest accomplishment."

Finishing the meal, as the two went up to the guest room Alfred had prepared, Terry finally asked the question he'd been dreading to know the answer to. "Can you tell me where Robin is?"

"It is the weekend sir, and Master Timothy is with the Titans. He will be back in a few days. And just in case, Master Dick is in Bludhaven and Miss Gordon is currently busy with her University courses."

Grateful for the knowledge that he could avoid Tim Drake for the immediate days, Terry sat on the silk sheeted bed, now completely without direction. He was helpless, with no way to get home, and the only person he even knew was in the basement too absorbed in his own work, and completely uncaring about him.

"Well, things can only go up from here," he muttered.

* * *

Amanda Waller looked at the newest report from her operatives on the Justice League Watchtower. Though Cadmus had indeed been stripped down from their near unstoppable grasp after that disaster with Luthor and Braniac, several heads at Washington had approved of their work, so now with an official Government liason and a reduced budget, the group still operated, officially as a research group and a metahuman liason with a small, but secret and viable metahuman wetworks division.

Her eyes flicked over the small day to day doings of the league before a rumor on the elusive Batman caught her attention. One of the few normals among a group of virtual gods, Batman had made himself into one of the most potent forces on the planet. The agent had noted a near belief in the idea of a future Batman, having come back to the past. At his own discretion, he'd used one of the few working backdoors Cadmus had to the League mainframes to find a still frame of this new Batman after witnessing a brief, yet terse discussion between Mr. Terrific and Batman.

It was clear even through the relatively low-quality picture, the man was not Bruce Wayne, and the timestamp on the image confirmed it was just seconds before a power outage outage in the Command Room. She connected the obvious dots together, concluding that the new figure had been responsible, but a time travelling Batman?

Time Travel was technically possible, she'd been told, but not with the materials available today. But if the man really was from the future, it was certainly possible if not probable…

She pulled up a small file labeled under Project Batman Beyond on her computer, which had the slightest of pages. It wasn't much more than a concept at this point, with only the firm idea that the world always needed a Batman. Could this new figure be proof of her success?

She looked at the picture once more before making her decision.

She picked up her phone and rang for Doctor Hugo Strange.

* * *

So, I think I'm kind of late on this, or at least according to my self schedule. My University has just started up, so later Chapters might go slower or faster depending on how much I'm motivated (sick of classes).

Until the next chapter then.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer- Don't own Batman Beyond or JLU at all

* * *

Terry's week in the Watchtower had adjusted his sleeping schedule to a more sane time, what with him not having to go crack criminal heads in Gotham, and as such, he managed a good seven hours of sleep before waking up in bed still in costume.

With nothing to do, he examined the guest room, amazed at all the lavish furnishings. He couldn't help but wonder if all of these plush carpets and hardwood furniture was just gathering dust somewhere in his time, or if they'd simply been covered, gathering dust.

Speaking of which, this room looked like it had never been used, though it was very clean. Terry hadn't really seen too much of the actual manor besides the parlor, kitchen, and living room so he wondered exactly where he was. Out of idle curiosity, he swiped a finger above a nearby table amazed at the lack of dust. Alfred certainly kept things in shape alright.

He stepped out to the window, making sure he couldn't actually be seen before looking out. The manor was… actually gorgeous. He was so used to the nearly ruined manor, with its gothic architecture and decayed lands, the change surprised him.

Terry knew there would be no groundskeepers, so he opened the window and jumped out, landing perfectly before simply walking, confident he wouldn't be spotted.

There were actually animals making their homes here, and Terry could hear birds chirping. All the greenery Terry was surrounded by reminded him of the few parks left in Gotham, set high above ground level, nearly as artificial as the rest of the city.

…This was not his city anymore though. It would not be HIS Gotham for decades.

Terry clenched his hands unconsciously. His Gotham was a bloated thing, big enough to nearly touch from the cliffs of Bruce's home. Bruce's manor was a dead place, surrounded by a black forest.

This was not his home. Not now anyway.

Terry turned and walked back in, the full impact of his time travel finally sinking in. He ignored Alfred's greeting and call for breakfast, instead making his way to the cave.

With a closer look, even the Cave wasn't his. The trophies were non-existent, the cave was perhaps half its current size, the antiquated car and jet rested where his own Batmobile should have been.

Terry moved to where he knew a training room was kept, only to be lost with the unfamiliar layout of the cave. This was ridiculous, Batman lost in his own slagging cave. It was… pathetic.

He punched a wall in frustration, only to be stopped by Alfred's voice.

"It is all so very different isn't it?" the man asked softly.

Terry gave a wry grin, "The Watchtower was completely new, so even when I felt out of place, it didn't feel so bad, but…" Terry trailed off.

"I feel like Rip van Winkle in reverse."

"Well, at least some literary standards are kept in the future," Alfred joked. "Especially when all one sees is bad news."

The two shared a comfortable silence before Alfred motioned Terry to follow. He led him to a training room, styled in a traditional Japanese manner, a remnant of Bruce's own training journey.

It lacked the high-tech holographic Synthoids Terry always wore out, but the cloth and wood dummies, along with the multiple sandbags would do just as well.

"I've noticed Master Bruce always enjoying physical exertion to calm himself down, I am not wrong that you are the same? Of course, I can't let you into the city so that you may have live targets, but these should perform decently"

"These aren't the… T's, but it's a nice substitute," Terry said, carefully omitting the word 'Jokerz.'

"Of course sir, Master Bruce is currently sleeping and he has expressed a wish to see you later," Alfred said before leaving.

Terry made sure the Butler had gone before carefully lifting his mask to reveal his nose. He smiled as he took in the scent of tiger balm and other assorted scents. Well, a Gym is a gym he thought as he punched a dummy. Too bad he couldn't take off his suit though, it would have been nice to feel his knuckles scrubbed raw after a punch. Anything to take his mind away from the past.

* * *

Hours later, Terry had a good enough lunch and met with Bruce out of costume, still in the Dojo.

Bruce raised an eyebrow at Terry's costumed form but seemingly accepted his need for privacy.

"So you going to tell me how you know my name? Or why you're not surprised I exist?" Terry asked.

Bruce just stared for a moment before beginning to talk.

"I want to see just how capable you really are," Bruce started slowly. "So we'll do this as fast as possible.

Terry cocked his head to the side, peeved at his questions being ignored and unsure just what Bruce meant. Pressing for more information, he was dismayed to see Bruce actually smile. When the Old Man smiled, that usually meant someone (namely Terry) was going to be taking a whole lot of pain.

But hey, maybe this was before the Old Man had been such a tightwad?

* * *

Terry flew into the wall with a thump, sure he'd just cracked something important before wheezing out, "Yeah this is… not how I wanted this to go."

Bruce hadn't even broken a sweat before saying "You're far too sloppy, and your guard leaves much to be desired. Don't I teach you anything?"

Terry shot up, hoping to catch the man off guard, but instead found himself rebuffed by a block before evading.

"Acrobatic though," Bruce noted approvingly. "At least I know you can dodge hits."

Terry lunged forward again, and the two Batmen exchanged blows, but Terry found himself eating the mat once more. Slaggit, sure he'd been holding back on his suit, but this was embarrassing.

"You're not trying very hard are you?" Bruce asked. "That suit, it's powered isn't it? Any reason you're not trying to hit me harder?"

Terry wiped off some spittle he was sure he spilled before saying "Classified."

He twisted on the ground, avoiding a brutal axe kick from an annoyed Bruce before he leapt and danced around the man, finally irritated enough to reach back and punch through a sandbag.

Bruce's eyes widened as he realized exactly what Terry would do before Terry kicked in his rocket boots and flew in to tackle Bruce. As the man made a recovery, Terry hurled the sand before getting off a solid straight to the other man's stomach hard enough to make the man wheeze.

"You…you cheated," Bruce swore.

"I won," Terry pointed out.

"Is that right?" Bruce asked as he fingered a smoke bomb he'd snatched from Terry's belt.

Terry barely had time to bring out his rebreather before the bomb went off and Bruce mercilessly pummeled the teenager.

The two of them both caught their breaths while Bruce took a chug from a bottle of water. "While you're here, I'll be teaching you martial arts. We'll focus on Krav Maga and Sambo, as it seems like you focus on getting things done quickly. If Nightwing shows up, he can help you out with your agility.'

"Sounds…good," Terry breathed out.

"I don't know just how the world is like in the future, so I'll stick to physical conditioning for now. Get you less reliant on that suit. And you can be sure that I'll teach you about being a detective."

"Yeah?"

"Hope you're not too attached to sleeping," Bruce smirked.

"As long as Alfred gets me food, I'll be fine." Terry shot back. "To be honest, the older you is harsher on my training."

"I see," Bruce murmured. "I'll be sure to not disappoint you then."

Terry had no answer to that.

* * *

Terry's next week was a blur of bumps and bruises. The miserable old taskmaster had taken Terry's bragging to heart. He'd been forced to remove his costume, and keep on an old cloth mask that stung terribly through all of his lessons. Bruce apparently thought he needed to make up for all the years Terry had not spent training to fight, and so attempted to cram what had been an eight year regime to a matter of weeks.

'Pick this lock in 15 seconds.'

'10 minutes to run 2 miles, go!'

The old bat had hurled rocks whenever he felt Terry had slacked, and forced knowledge down Terry's throat until his daydreams were filled with endless chemical formulas and their effects. When Terry shut his eyes, all he could see were countless tumblers falling into place.

On one memorable occasion, after ensuring that Terry could pull himself free of handcuffs, Bruce had just hurled the teenager into the waters next to the boat, forcing Terry to try to slip away while precious oxygen slipped away. Bruce's only response after a choking Terry swam up? Again.

And so it went, with Terry's only point of relief when Tim Drake had finally returned from meeting his Titan friends to Gotham.

* * *

"Hey Batman, I'm- whoa!" Robin yelped as he shifted to avoid Terry's thrown form.

"Uh, who's this?" he asked.

Batman gave Robin a nod of greeting before saying "My successor. From the future apparently."

Terry's body chose that moment to throw up the bits of fruit he'd managed to choke down.

"Uh huh," Robin said, giving Terry's prone form an unsure look. "This is going to be one of those weeks isn't it?"

"What weeks?" Bruce snapped.

"The ones where Superman comes over and we have to stop aliens or something," Robin said cheekily. "So anyway! What's up?"

Terry looked up from his position on the floor. "Hopefully I will as soon as the cave stops spinning."

Thankful Bruce had decided on a helmet today, Terry wiped a bit of… well it was something nasty, off his face and gi before turning to face Tim. "Robin huh? Nice to meet you Tim."

Tim smiled at being called his name. "Oooh, so you know me huh? I must famous in the future," he said, striking a heroic pose.

Terry hesitated before getting up. "Something like that… you're shorter than I thought."

Tim shot Terry a scowl before dropping to a more normal form.

"My growth spurt is coming in," he defended.

"Uh huh, sure it is twip," Terry said easily, still too disconcerted by Tim's behavior. It was hard to believe that the kid in front of him was going to be brainwashed by the Joker, before suffering decades of mental torture, coming out a broken shell of a man.

Robin raised an eyebrow at the unfamiliar word before cheerily saying "Well, it's better than Boy Wonder I guess. Anything is better than that. Here, let me help you up."

Terry batted away the hand before picking himself up. "Sorry, it's just…"

"Yeah yeah, strong stubborn type. I got you," Robin shrugged off.

"It's not that, it's…"

Robin cocked his head to the side. "Cat got your tongue?"

'I don't trust you, I can't trust you. You killed hundreds with that satellite, you nearly killed Bruce, you were everything I feared and hated. You were my enemy and I wished you were dead,' Terry did not say. But no, that had been the Joker hadn't it? Tim had just been the unfortunate carrier, forced to see the madman carve up Gotham with no real control.

So… he had to at least try to get to know Tim. The real one, not the old man of his time, but the lively one of the past.

Terry raised his hand, "Terry," he said.

If Tim was surprised at how easily Terry had said his real name, he doubted it was a fake, he did not show it. Instead, he just put his laughably small hand to Terry's, and shook it firmly.

Terry couldn't help but shudder at the contact, half-expecting a surge of electricity from some hidden joy buzzer, but still held tight, taking in the boy's grip before letting go.

Bruce watched the two greet each other silently before finally entering the conversation. "Now that Robin's arrived, you have a new sparring partner. Go, and don't stop until I say so."

"What now?" Terry complained. "He just got here, and he's completely fresh while I've been your personal punching bag for the past hour."

"Tough." Batman glowered.

"Heh, don't let it get you down," Robin tried to assure. The gesture might have been a lot more comforting if Robin hadn't followed up with a side kick, hoping to catch Terry off guard.

Terry just barely got a block in time, and instead hurled a punch as retaliation.

"Oh shut up."

Terry was tired, sore, and aching in places he hadn't even known, but he still had power and reach over the sidekick. And slaggit all, he was the goddamn Batman. He'd never let himself lose to a Robin.

* * *

The next few weeks passed by without incident, as Terry continued to train. However, his exasperation at Bruce rose. After all, as appreciative as he might have been to being trained by the Old Man in his prime, Bruce hadn't done anything to help him get home. One day, his frustration finally reached it's limit, and he lashed out at Bruce while all three heroes ate breakfast.

"Why?"

Bruce didn't look up from the light meal Alfred had prepared as he asked "Why what?" fully aware of just what Terry was wanting.

"Why haven't you helped me go back?"

Robin's keen danger sense told him to back away while there was still time, and he hastily grabbed his bowl of cereal before leaving the dining room.

"I have."

"Bullshit," Terry snarled. "All you've been doing is beating me up whenever you're not on patrol. You haven't helped at all. What, are you expecting me to stay so that you can be Batman just a bit longer? Hoping that if I don't go back, that heart attack won't cripple you? Newsflash, I earned your name from you, and the Old Man needs my help. You aren't a lone wolf okay?"

Bruce didn't even flinch as Terry revealed just how decrepit he must have become to rely on Terry.

"Dealing with Time Travelers is problematic. The trouble that comes with trying to find one is that they have all of time to hide in."

"Speaking from personal experience? Is that how you know my name?" Terry dug.

"Yes. And believe me, I hope that you'll never see me young once you go back home. I try not to remember those memories"

Terry's mind raced as he tried to figure out what Bruce meant by that. If the two Batmen had met each other in a time so bad, he never wanted to think about it, something big was happening in his future. "That bad huh?"

The smell of Terry's flesh cooking beneath electrified whips flowed across Bruce's nose before he said. "Worse. But with any luck, you won't see that future. Trust me on that."

The two were silent, leaving a ridiculous scene. A quiet billionaire playboy working his way through a grapefruit, and a cybernetic Batman taking sips of water, with only his chin and mouth uncovered.

"I do think it's time we tried other methods to get you home. We'll have to rely on," and here Bruce grimaced. "Magic."

"Huh, never had to deal with that. ESP sure, but never magic."

"You're lucky then," Bruce admitted before switching gears. "We'll go see a practioner here in Gotham."

"We? I'm coming with you?"

"Yes. But only if you follow my directions. And do not let your guard down around him. This man is dangerous."

"Where are we going? Arkham? This guy an enemy of yours?"

"Enemy. Friend. Something in between. His name is Jason Blood."


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: You know the drill. Don't own anything but the clothes on my back. And my laptop. And my... you know what? I own a lot of stuff. Forget it, but not DC.

* * *

"So Doctor, what can you tell me about this man?"

"As I told you before Madam Director, a single still image of poor quality is hardly enough to get an accurate description. There is no movement, no body language to decipher, nothing," Hugo Strange said patiently.

But Amanda Waller was a stubborn woman, and she persisted before Strange reluctantly said "Well, I can tell you that is not Bruce Wayne. Even in his youth, the man had bulked up considerably, partly due to genetics, and partly due to his diet and training. This one is too skinny. If anything, I'd prefer to say that it's Dick Grayson."

"A clone of Grayson then? A Nightwing is to become Batman?"

"We still have no way of knowing the truth. With Cadmus' expertise in genetics, I would wager it is a clone. But that's still only one of several possibilities. We had planned out other ideas."

"Only as a thought provoking exercise. This was never meant to be a reality," Waller said. "And if it was, it was to take place years later. Long after now at any rate."

"There is, of course, the likelihood that this is just a random man, who's history had been unlucky enough to suffer the tragedy of becoming the Batman," Strange tried to persuade.

"But unlikely," Waller said firmly.

"At any rate, it is incredibly difficult to get a full psychological profile of a man with such little information. How go your efforts on that front by the way Director?"

"Well enough, I have several men placed on Arkham staff, and more running surveillance on several of the more prominent members of the Gotham nightlife. Penguin, Catwoman, that Blood man, and so forth. If this new one makes a move, I'll see a report," confided Waller.

"We can only hope," Strange smiled.

Amanda Waller left the office shortly after, leaving Hugo Strange alone. The Doctor kept up his little smile, and covered up his mouth, chuckling into it.

His serum was working better than he thought.

* * *

The two Batmen rode in near silence, with Bruce only having on the police radio playing, though he appeared to ignore any petty crimes for the night, too focused on the man they would visit. That all changed when Terry asked, "So where's Robin tonight?"

Batman's eyes flicked over to Terry's before he said "On patrol."

Terry fought down the slight panic attack, "You let him go out by himself?"

"He has his bike, a GPS beacon, and a direct link to the Watchtower. Robin can handle himself. Though the same can't be said about you."

Terry let Bruce think the jibe had pierced his skin, only wondering where those wonderful tools had been when Tim was taken by the Joker. Or would be. Gah, Time Travel was confusing.

The two came to a nondescript building, and Bruce drove to a quiet and almost hidden corner before stopping the car.

"I've called ahead, so Blood should be expecting us. How good are you at remaining hidden?" Bruce asked as he turned around.

The only thing he saw was empty space, before Terry's voice floated out from thin air. "This good enough for you?"

"It will do. How long will it last?"

"2 minutes, give or take," Terry answered as he faded back into the visible spectrum.

"How are you at wall-climbing?"

The Tomorrow Knight patted a grapple gun in answer, and the Dark Knight thought over the plan.

"I'll go first, and I'll signal you when ready. Here," Bruce said as he tossed a small device. "It'll blink when we'll be ready for you."

Terry fiddled around with the device while Bruce looked on disapprovingly. Shaking his head, Bruce left, leaving Terry alone, happy that he could irritate Bruce so much.

Bruce arrived at Jason Blood's apartment, and rapped on the glass balcony doors after rappelling up, waiting for admittance. He did not wait long, as the man's blood red hair appeared and unlocked the door.

"Enter freely and of your own will," the disgraced Knight said.

Bruce raised an eyebrow asking "Dracula?"

"A favorite of mine. I reread it every year and make sure to watch the films often," Blood explained.

Bruce gave a nod before signaling to Terry below.

Unbeknownst to the two men, they were being watched by a man across the street.

* * *

John Smith, a man so painfully nondescript as his name, looked across his window with a patience that bordered on the absurd. He'd spent the last seven hours, firmly locked into one position as he looked through a set of binoculars that was pointed at the home of Jason Blood stopping only to go to the bathroom once.

He left only to relieve himself at 8:00 in the morning and 5:00 in the afternoon, living on a few TV dinners during his time of assignment. He did not complain about his position, and was considered the perfect man for long term surveillance.

He barely raised an eyebrow at the sight of Batman rappelling onto Jason Blood's balcony, instead only speaking into his recorder.

"Secondary Target spotted. Awaiting Primary Target," he whispered.

His sharp eyes spotted a flash of silver in darkness, though he could see no figure anywhere near. Biting his lips, he took out a set of infrared binoculars before his lips curled into a smile.

"Primary Target spotted. Target Location: Gotham… Confirmed. Use of optical camouflage; confirmed. All predicted factors matched. Confirmed use of advanced technology."

He logged in his findings before his eyes flashed. The well hidden bionic eyes glowed a startling blue for a moment, before a nearby printer sputtered to life, and left behind a series of photographs.

Realizing that he hadn't blinked in over an hour, Smith carefully closed his eyes, letting the highly efficient machines soak in moisture before opening them and started to pack up. He had what he came for. It was time to report back.

* * *

Terry blinked at the sight of Blood's furnished apartment. The various magical knick-knacks the man kept were grossly unsettling. He eyed a particularly vicious looking dagger that had been stained red. Probably from blood, Terry decided.

"Like it? Ancient Mayan artifact used for Ritual Sacrifice. Nice isn't it?"

"It seems… expensive," Terry said carefully.

"Yeah, makes a great letter opener," Blood said with a grin.

Terry looked at the man not sure if he was being serious.

"Ignore him, Blood's drunk," Bruce rapped out.

"Yes well, forgive me for indulging a bit. When it comes to time travelers, I find it keeps the edge off the difficulties they bring."

"Hnng, if you're not being much use, how about your other half? How does it go again? Gone, gone, the form of man…" Bruce started.

"Enough!" Blood nearly snarled. "Not tonight, and not for a long while. I won't have it."

"Are you alright?" Terry asked.

"No," Jason Blood admitted, "He's excited. It's all I can do to keep that monster in check right now. Almost as bad as Halloween."

"So Etrigan is keeping you occupied? No way to help us?"

"Batman, I deal with Ritual magic and auguries. You find me a killing done by magic, I can find out what did it. Black Magic? Not a problem. Time Travel? Go see Doctor Fate. He'll be the one most knowledgeable about matters like that. I'm… an immortal. I travel through time in a single direction just like you."

"No luck finding le Fay?" Bruce asked.

"Not since we met that damnable whelp of hers," Blood snarled.

"Careful friend, you're sounding like him."

"I know, I know," Blood moaned, palming his face. "This damned curse. He becomes like me, and I become like him, but all that monster takes from me is cunning and guile. All he takes is 'sophistication,'" Blood mocked.

"And all that he gives me is hate," he finished bitterly. His eyes lifted themselves from his hands.

"I am so sorry Batman. But I can not help you the way you wish. All I can offer you is obvious advice. Be careful with Magic. Everything has its price, and Magic will take more than its fair share," Blood said as his eyes glittered darkly.

Blood's shoulders drooped, as though the weight of all his years caught up to him. Looking terribly old, he waved the two Batmen out.

As Bruce shut the balcony doors, Terry could only say "Well that was worthless."

Bruce looked ready to argue before deciding it too costly to argue, only saying that it would take time to arrange a meeting with Dr. Fate.

"Let's go back."

Terry could not argue with that.

* * *

As soon as Amanda Waller had the report in hand, she called a priority meeting of all department heads. After the last had taken their seat, and she was sure the room was clear of all bugs, she started the meeting. Not even bothering to beat around the bush, she dropped her bombshell.

"For those of you who have been uninformed, there has been a rumor of a Batman coming here from the future. An actual Time Traveler. This has just been confirmed."

The assembled group began to whisper to each other, curious as to where Waller was going with this, wondering what the affairs of the League had to do with Cadmus after the Braniac Disaster.

"It is also my firm belief, that this Batman is Cadmus property. Certain facts have convinced me that in the future, Cadmus picks itself up from our current state to rise from the ashes gentlemen. We are the Phoenix of myth. If Cadmus had made a Batman for Tomorrow, what else could we accomplish? What have we accomplished in all those decades our Batman had come from? The key lies in him of course," Waller smiled.

Her audience was captivated by her spiel. "If Cadmus is to be great once more, we must have that Batman."

Professor Rossi of Cybernetics spoke up, "With all due respect Director Waller, the status quo is more than acceptable right now. Our… capacity may have been diminished, our military might has been downsized, but the government is pouring gold into our coffers. Science is progressing at rates we'd never thought possible before. Do we really need him?"

"Yes," Waller clarified. "We are strong, but with the new Batman, history will vindicate us. Batman never outfits himself in anything but the best. That suit must have riches we can't even imagine, and the historical records it must contain will guide us in ways that we thought impossible."

The board seemed mollified at this, but Waller was not comforted. She still had one more bombshell to drop, and quickly too before these brilliant minds dug too deeply at her words.

"So I am ordering the activation of Plan Omega-39."

"Director, you can not do this!" shouted Emil Hamilton. His face was flushed with horror as he gripped his PDA hard enough to crack the casing.

More than a few heads looked confused, never having heard of this so called plan, and as one, the entire Board of Directors of Cadmus pulled up the relevant file on the laptops in front of them while others looked at Hamilton quizzically.

"T-this is absurd!"

"Insanity!"

Waller waited for the Board to get over their outrage. As one, the disturbed group turned to Emil Hamilton to answer for them.

"Director Waller, surely you can not be serious? I was there when we made the plan yes, but it was never more than a contingency. Something to be done in case of a tragedy or if the Batman failed in his duties. We can't-"

"You are wrong Emil," Waller stated. "Omega-39 was always meant to occur. The timetable has just been pushed up. That madhouse is too dangerous, and this plan is the only way the new Batman will reveal himself. The old one would keep him inside otherwise. Only in case of a catastrophe like this is there the slightest chance he would come. And for something like this, something that could shake the world so, I would move mountains, I would destroy cities."

The cold look in Waller's eyes made Professor Hamilton nervous. There was a glint he didn't like, but there was no chance he could overrule her. Cadmus was not a democracy, and was never meant to be one. There was a clear cut chain of command, and Waller stood at the very top.

"By this time next week, Jeremiah Arkham is to have vanished, with over 2 billion dollars missing from the Arkham fund, the entirety of place's reserves for all its maintenance and upgrades, with a mass breakout of all its inmates. Gotham will panic, criminals will run amuck, and in the end, after Batman can not stop the flood, Cadmus and the government will come in and finally lock those psychotics away in a place so dark, the light of God will never shine down on them."

"Are there any questions?" the Director asked.

Doctor Emile Dorian of Genetics seemed ready to speak up before he folded his hands. This…outburst was unlike Director Waller. And she'd spoken her plans so quickly, one after the other. Was she trying to divert attention away from something? He'd recently been approached by a coalition of countries, trying to take him away to a new Organization. Careful probing had given him evidence enough to know that Hugo Strange, former fellow inmate of Arkham was taking the bait, but had Waller decided to abandon ship as well? That was unlikely unless…

"No? Then get to it gentlemen."

As the group hesitantly rose, exchanging nervous looks, Dr. Strange and Dr. Emile Dorian glanced at each other, sharing nearly imperceptible nods.

The two men made their way to Strange's office, where a chess game was well underway. It had evolved to midgame, and the two took their spots.

"Interesting isn't it? I had no idea the director was so full of fire."

Strange didn't even look up from the board, only saying "Very."

Impatient, Dorian tapped a pawn repeatedly against the glass table, annoyed at the man in front of him before asking "How long have you been working on her?"

"Month after month. So much preparation," Strange said.

"How did you do it? Was it some kind of toxin? A pheromone?" Dorian asked. "I may be a geneticist, but I'm still quite knowledgeable in chemistry you know."

Strange lifted a Knight and carefully moved it before saying "I'm much more than an inventor and psychiatrist than you think. I helped design some of the super-soldier serums we'd been experimenting with. I received some help from Dr. Crane a while back, but while he was helpful after all the trouble I took to get him to focus on something besides fear, he didn't really provide anything new. But the initial compound we created was very successful. After that, it only took a few implanted suggestions. I won't say much more than that."

Dorian hemmed and hawed, as he considered his move, "Is she aware? You and I both know that she feels that the League is doing good work these days. This… fanaticism is out of character for her."

"In some isolated corner of her mind, most likely yes, but as you know, Waller always put up a dedicated front whenever she dealt with people. This is only a small step forward really in their hearts. They have no clue of her true personality. Ironic that her own stonewalling proves to be her defeat"

"But still, all this trouble… couldn't we just infiltrate the cave? Take this Batman directly without all this violence?" Dorian asked.

"Ah, but you see, Bruce Wayne is smart enough to know when to swallow his pride. Or so he thinks. If his inner sanctum is breached, he would think nothing of calling on the League. There is a reason his cave possesses a direct line to the Watchtower. But Gotham? Batman is a greedy toddler who wants to keep his sandbox to himself. More problematic, but much easier. Trust me," Strange explained.

Dr. Dorian finally made his move, slamming a single piece to take the Rook Strange had left vulnerable musing "I suppose once we move in to take control of the city, our benefactors will be quite pleased."

Strange nodded. "The international community has been quite active you know. Washington isn't the only place concerned about metahumans. They've finally begun to merge all the groups together, hoping a united front will work. Cadmus will be discredited and most likely dissolved while a select few of us will rise."

"And America is the last piece of the puzzle," Dorian chuckled. "Or perhaps the final gear to get the machine moving. I think Hamilton's been approached you know?"

"Oh? That is surprising. How did he respond?"

"The man's too loyal and whipped by fear now. The League's scared him with the wrath of angry gods. Bah, a man of science brought so low. Shameful," Dorian tutted.

"Omega-39… it should make quite a splash don't you think? But I think I can improve the plan a bit. And Waller can't complain. Her men will only be doing her job to their utmost. Excellence above excellence. That's the sort of quality she's been wanting no?"

Both scientists gave dark chuckles as the game went on.

* * *

The magic portal to Dr. Fate's realm led to a quaintly parlor Terry was honestly surprised by. The decorum didn't match anything Terry thought an all powerful Magician would use. In a lone corner, 2 towering men were hunched over a small table engrossed in a game. Bruce had told Terry about the two in advanced. Aquaman and the Android, the rarely used team in the League.

"Checkmate," the gold-colored robot said cheerfully. "Shall we play again?"

The blonded-haired man brushed a lock of hair with a dangerous looking claw, seemingly unaware of how close he'd come to slicing open his scalp before saying "What's the point? I always lose."

"But your skills always improve with every game," the Android complimented.

Aquaman sneered before turning to face the guests.

"Batman, Fate's waiting for the kid in the room," he waved. "You want to take the tin man off my hands for a bit?"

"I'll pass Arthur."

Rebuffing Aquaman, Bruce followed Terry in where Dr. Fate was standing."

"You've arrived," the powerful Sorcerer noted.

"You know why we came here Doctor. Can you get him home?" Batman asked, foregoing the pleasantries.

Fate steepled his hands together before admitting that it was certainly within his capabilites, though he warned the two that the spell was dangerous and comprehensive.

"It will take me several weeks to gather the ingredients. However, it would be best if we wait until a Blue Moon can be found. The extra power granted by the Lunar Forces would make the journey far less perilous."

"That's two years from now, we can't wait that long!" Bruce exclaimed.

"That is the safest time to perform the spell Batman. Otherwise there is a great chance that your successor here might find that if he gets home, he will have left a limb 20 years back. That is the risk with magic," Fate said as he cocked his helmet to the side. "And as he is time travelling, he would only arrive minutes, if not seconds, after his initial travel. An extra year or two of wait is not so much to ask is it?"

"Yes it is!" Terry blurted. "I-I have a life outside of Batman. My friends, my-"

"Don't finish that sentence!" Bruce roared. "I don't want to hear anything about the future. The slightest detail is too dangerous."

Dr. Fate glanced at Bruce before asking him to leave the room. With a fierce glare, Batman fought Fate before silently acquiescing to the magician's order, swirling his cape as he left.

"Inza will get you some refreshments," Fate said.

Bruce almost slammed the door behind him as he came face to face with the amused superheroes outside.

"Chess?" The Android asked.

Bruce let by a strangled snarl at the question before the entertained android went to a shelf and began pulling out various games.

"I also have Monopoly if you would like. And Chutes and Ladders is very popular I'm told."

Fully aware of the Android's cosmic power, Batman reluctantly sat at the game table while Arthur looked on amused.

"I must warn you Batman, that if we are to play Monopoly, I insist that the vintage automobile be my avatar. If it must come to blows, then so be it," the Android said solemnly.

That was the last straw for Arthur as he burst into laughter, the King of Atlantis reduced to clutching at his sides as the great Batman was brought so low.

* * *

"Look, I'm sorry Doctor, but I have to go home."

"I understand that Batman," Fate soothed. "And I will try my utmost to get you home as quickly and safely as possible. If it can be done before the Blue Moon, I will let you know."

Terry was still not comforted by the Magician's assurances, but did not let it show on his face.

"But that is not the main reason I sent your predecessor away. I must warn you."

"What? That magic is dangerous? I've already been told that," Terry snapped.

"That is sage advice," the old man said. "But not what I wanted to tell you."

Terry sat down rudely on a nearby armchair, waiting for the man to continue.

"Time is… tricky. You see, there are some who believe that Time is a river to be changed at will, others believe it immutable," he began, searching for his words carefully. "I realize how impossible it may sound, but there are being far above the likes of you and me. Above even the gods we know to exist, and they are called the Endless. They are unbeatable concepts who were here when the Universe was born, and will be here until the last speck of anything burns away. Among their number is one named Destiny."

Fate spoke the name with reverence and a hint of fear.

"Destiny has with him a book, an ancient tome as old as he that has within it the history of the Universe, from its beginnings to its end. And from the book of lore, Destiny forever reads from it, and seeing all of history as he does. It is due to this that many believe Time is something set in stone."

"So you're telling me I've been here in the past already? First time I've ever heard it," Terry mused.

"And yet history itself can be altered you see? Once, several years ago Superman was sent to the future where man had died under the heel of an Immortal named Savage, and yet once he came back, the future was changed. History was changed."

"So Destiny's little book was wrong."

"No," Fate said. "You see, nothing in the Universe happens until Destiny reads from his tome. It is like the famed Schrodinger's Cat. The book may have within it all the possible future in the world, and when Destiny reads from it, the tome itself alters to match the history being read. Of course, this is all conjecture."

Terry clutched his head to ward off the pain, "I got to say Doc, you're not really making anything clearer."

"My apologies, but the story was needed for you to get the context of what it is I was going to say. After hearing all this, and even seeing Destiny in person-"

"You met the guy in the flesh?" Terry interrupted.

"Once. It was terrifying beyond measure, but after seeing him, I concluded that Time is fluid, and able to be changed in small ways. But of course, the problem is that we have no way to know what small changes consist of, or whether or not you've already changed your past."

"So, anything I do here, might work to change the future?" Terry asked as his mind raced to uncover the possibilities. He could save Tim Drake. He could stop Barbara Gordon from becoming the angry woman he knew. He could save Superman. He… he could do anything!

"Yes…" Fate whispered. "But you see, that may no longer be the case. The Helm of Nabu I wear now gives me a certain amount of prescience. And it showed me time being fractured."

"What?" Terry asked, unsure just what Fate meant.

"There was a man calling himself Chronos. He fancied himself a god of Time after his power drove him mad. He ruined time with his own whims as he collected trophies for himself. Ships, armies, palaces, and so much more became his private collection, and spacetime trembled under the strain… And then he did the impossible. He went to the beginning of Time, perhaps even before the Endless. Had he accomplished his goal, the whole of time would have been his, compared to the relatively petty accomplishments he'd made before."

"So what happened?" Terry asked, actually intrigued by the story.

"Your mentor and Green Lantern stopped him just seconds away from total victory. It is due to their efforts that Time is stable. Relatively that is," Fate answered.

"Wow," Terry whispered, craning his head to the door as though he could see Bruce through the mahogany frame. "He never told me about that."

"That would be because he never did it," Fate said.

Terry sighed, "And now we're back to being confusing again."

"The Batman of your time at the instant you remember had never done such a thing, however, when the current Batman stopped Chronos, time shifted to accommodate the change. Henceforth, Destiny's reading revealed that the Batman and Green Lantern stopped the madman forever, after which it became true history. After that pivotal instant, the future changed the past, and vice-versa. Everything affects each other, do you see?"

"No," Terry admitted. "This is way beyond me."

Dr. Fate smiled under his helmet before saying "At any rate, the important thing is this. By coming here, you have the potential to change the future, and may have already done so. However, Chronos' meddling has caused the timeline to become fragile and weak. Nothing is concrete. Although History has a tendency to correct itself, it's own immune system of sorts," Fate explained, "It is now incredibly stretched, and any further actions by you may alter things drastically. So it is my advice that you do nothing. For all you know, even the slightest meeting between a mailman or waitress might erase you from time. Or say… perhaps you remove a mob boss from power? What happens if a worse and more bloodthirsty one rises in his stead? It is a fine line you are crossing Batman. Before there was a certain amount of leeway. Unless people acted directly to alter the timeline irrevocably, they had a form of protection against Time's currents. A bubble of sorts which left them existing, only changing the slightest of events. Now after Chronos… that protection is non-existent."

Terry's eyes narrowed before he forced Fate to explain. "You want me to stay here where I can't damage anything."

"It would be most preferable yes," the Doctor said.

"…I can't do that."

"That is always your choice Batman. I am just here to illuminate your path."

Fate opened the door to the parlor, and led Terry outside where the young Batman couldn't help but snort at the sight of Bruce intently focused on what looked like a children's board game.

"Having fun?"

"Hardly," Bruce responded. "Did you get what you wanted?"

"Didn't get what I wanted, but got some stuff I needed apparently," Terry said cryptically.

At that moment, Doctor Fate's wife Inza entered the room with a loaded tray.

"Leaving so soon?" she asked. "Why not stay for some food?"

Terry had to admit it was a tempting proposition. The food looked great. He was just about to reach over and grab something when the Android suddenly interrupted.

"Batman. Both of you, stop. There is something you need to see," he said without any of the childlike wonder he could display sometimes.

He raised an arm and as though by magic, a series of images popped up. Terry recognized it as a news screen when with a wave of the Android's arm, the screens multiplied a good dozen times. He and Bruce both stared in horror as snatches of the anchormen and reporters voices came through.

"-plosion at Arkham Asylum confirmed."

"Mass Breakout has been spotted, our helicopter is on the scene now."

Terry focused on the one that said that, grimacing at the low quality video as he stared at hundreds of madmen, dressed in the garbs of inmates streamed out of the burning Asylum.

"Tom, we believe that the generators powering the asylum were destroyed, and that all power lines from the city were cut. As you can see even the backup generators, meant to power the cell doors of the inmates were wiped. As we speak, the inmates are rushing out of… oh no. God no! What is that? It's- is that? Mr. Free-"

The screen was awash with static and Terry feared the worst.

"Folks, I'm sorry, but we've had to cut the feed now we-"

"Scattered reports indicate that the vast majority of the legendary Batman's 'Rogue Gallery' has escaped. The current list includes, but is not limited to: The Joker, The Riddler, Two-Face, Killer Croc, Clayface, Poison Ivy, Harley Quinn, Firefly, Mr. Freeze, Killer Moth, Maxie Ze-"

"This just in, a website never known before has just gone viral with these series of images. Viewers, these images may be too graphic and I advise caution."

Terry fought the urge to throw up as a bloody lump of meat he vaguely recognized as human showed up. He recognized straw colored hair, but through all the bloody organs that shone in the lighting made it difficult to tell. The vague shape of a skull could be seen, but that was only possibly to know by the eyes lying several inches away from the caved in face. The image blinked a bit before the next image flashed in.

_Jeremiah Arkham dressed in red  
Got too greedy, and now he's dead  
Where's the money we don't know  
But in the city of Bats it's sure to show_

The words had been painstakingly rendered in blood, and the odd poem ended with what seemed like a signature. A lone Question Mark.

"Everyone, we've just heard unconfirmed reports that a sum totaling 1.93 billion dollars, the entirety of the funding that goes into Arkham's high-tech maintenance and upkeep has been found missing from the accounts and private vault used by the Asylum. If the images are correctly interpreted, the money is assumed to be… here. In Gotham."

Terry looked to Fate only to see him shake his head sadly. He checked this historical archives, looking for that date of the Asylum's fall. The place was shut down for decades, so was this already prior history?

…No. Mismanagement had finally allowed the Asylum to gasp its dying breaths before the Government stopped its funding. This breakout never happened. It was never supposed to happen.

_It is now incredibly stretched, and any further actions by you may alter things drastically. So it is my advice that you do nothing._

Too late for that. Something, somewhere had gone terribly wrong and Gotham City was paying its price.

Terry and Bruce both exchanged glances before turning to Fate.

"The cave! Now!"

* * *

The Chess match had entered endgame now. The two scientists of Cadmus focused only on the board, though the TV in the background continued to display its macabre news.

"Well done," Emile Dorian congratulated.

"Thank you," Strange acknowledged with a regal tilt of his head.

"I assume the money isn't in Gotham of course," Dorian said.

"Only fools would believe that the Riddler wrote something that clear cut. No, the money is safe with us. Though I can't say the same for Nygma! The entire city must be out to get him."

"The good thing about fools," Dorian murmured, "Is that there are so many of them ready to believe anything they see. Never a shortage… haha, Waller must be beside herself."

"No doubt," Strange smiled, "After all her agents just excelled in their duties. Nothing she can say anything bad about. And the news hasn't reported this, but the mobs… well they're reacting quite spectacularly. There have been group breakouts before of course, but nothing on this scale. Every single boss with enough money is grabbing ahold of any mercenary and down-on-his luck soldier he can find. Total war is just hours away."

"To Gotham!" Dorian toasted with a Rook, "To the Asylum's utter fall, and our ascension!"

"Yes, Cadmus will be revealed to have been behind it all, and everyone here is going to be rendered jobless and destitute. Which leaves them easy pickings for our new group once we swoop in and save the day. Or night rather."

"Hmm, you know it occurs to me that simply calling it 'The Group' isn't quite the best of names. Do you have any in mind?" Dorian asked.

"Oh I'm sure one will come to me in time," Strange said as he raised his last Bishop.

"Checkmate."

* * *

Thought this was dead? Think again! Ha, my midterms were annoying, but I've finally gotten a bit of free time, as such, here you go. To those who've mentioned the fact that Terry always knows Jason Blood... well, to be honest, I never got the chance to read those, though I have kept up with the new mini-series and the ongoing (BEEEECHEEEENNNNN!). As such, you can consider those small comics noncanon for this story. Anyways, hope the next chapter is up sooner.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Don't own Batman Beyond or JLU. If I did, I would be rich and so would you~ (kinda, maybe, probably not)

* * *

Terry was staggered at the sheer noise the cave was emitting from its various alarms after the magical portal dropped the two Batmen home.

Bruce didn't waste any time as he stalked up to Robin asking for status reports.

A flustered Tim looked up to check if Bruce was really there before frantically answering, "Everything gone crazy Batman. I mean, the Commissioner's managed to isolate the crazies to the Somerset District, but now we have to deal with looting all over the place. The League's been ringing like crazy too."

Bruce's eyes flicked to the isolated screen he kept for League communications before saying "I'll get to that in time. Where's Nightwing? And Batgirl?"

"Nightwing's on his way now. He's been burning rubber and he should be here in an hour or so. He's not running into much trouble on the roads. Everyone's trying to leave the city, not get in. And uh, bad news here Batman, but Batgirl's Dorm at the University's shut down. They've closed the school and are watching the students like a hawk. Scarecrow escaped with the others, and I think the school board is afraid he might try and come back for revenge. Batgirl told me she could probably escape, but that it might raise a whole lot of questions if people find out she's gone missing. And if her dad finds out, well…" Tim trailed off.

The implication was obvious. Gordon might very well divert needed police forces to cover the University instead of keeping the Somerset District locked down. It was unlikely yes, but Gordon loved his family above all else. He would never see them sacrificed if he could help it.

Batman shut off all the alarms during Tim's explanation and picked up a phone, punching in a number by heart. As he waited for the other man to pick up, Batman tried to remember his role correctly, gesturing the others to be silent.

"Hello? Lucius? Yes! I, uh, no, no, I'm fine. I'm in Milan right now actually. Right next to, well… that's not important. I just saw the news. What's going on over there?"

Terry was astounded at the change the man created. He shouldn't have been surprised really, he knew the Old Man was a capable actor, he'd fooled Terry's own mother more than a few times after all. But this bumbling persona was something Terry had never seen. Curious as to what the conversation was like, he activated the microphone in his suit, listening to the other man speak. This Lucius, Bruce called him.

"I won't lie Bruce. Things are pretty bad downtown. Uptown right now's in a decent place, but I think I'll have to shut down the corporate headquarters for the next few days until we get this all sorted out. Now, I know our stock might fall from this, but-"

"Lucius, I trust you no matter what you do," Bruce reassured. "I…look, I've never been that great with words, but my father loved Wayne Enterprises and everyone working there. Just… I can't go home for a while, or so Alfred is trying to persuade me, but keep… everyone safe," Bruce said lamely.

"Sorry, I wish I could say more."

Lucius chuckled for a few moments before saying calmly, "That's alright Bruce, I understand. I'll hold the fort. Just stay safe."

"I can't promise you that Lucius! It's Milan. I need to keep myself in shape to impress all the fine women here. But I'll be sure to bring something back for you. Your son and his children love gelato right? Keep those boys of yours safe and I'll bring back a crateful!" Bruce joked before hanging up.

As soon as the call disconnected, Bruce's face became stony again as he prepared to make another call, this time to the Justice League. As soon as he pressed the 'Connect Call' button, he was bombarded by demands, chiefly from Superman himself.

"Batman! We've heard the situation and we've got three teams ready to go in. Now just-"

"You're not getting in," Batman said flatly.

"What?"

"You heard me," Batman replied as a hand moved to cut the call off.

"You can't be serious! This is the worst thing Gotham's seen!" Superman demanded.

"Gotham's endured the Thanagarian Invasion. Gotham's endured Darkseid and his Parademons. I will handle this without League assistance."

"Is your pride really this big? So damn stubborn? The League can help you. This is why the League was formed in the first place. To help the people of the world when one man isn't enough," Superman argued.

Bruce's eyes narrowed as he measured his words, "Right now, my city is staggering on a very fine line. If the League gets involved, that will tip the city over. You see, when the League gets involved, so does everyone else. Flash is sent? His entire band of villains comes to wreak havoc. You come? Parasite is on the first flight in. Zatanna? Magic users? Felix Faust might pop his head out of whatever wretched hole he's been hiding. The League escalates situations, which might be acceptable elsewhere, but never in my city."

"But-"

"We signed a compact," Batman cut off, "saying Gotham is solely my jurisdiction. So, like I said. Stay out."

"We're keeping teams on standby just in case," Superman informed.

"…No metas," Bruce allowed before snapping off the call.

He turned to face his waiting crowd.

"Robin, with me. We're taking the car and seeing Gordon. Terry, you stay here with Alfred and keep an eye on the scopes."

"What? You're keeping me here at a time like this?" Terry demanded, "I've trained for this. I can help you."

"You might, but I won't let you."

"You can't do that."

"Isn't it funny?" Bruce hissed, "That only a week after you went out into the city, this happened? By the way, you were caught on the Watchtower, just so you know. That suit doesn't make you infallible, it just makes you lazy. You screwed up, you got caught, and now my city is collapsing, and I need to keep this place propped up. So, get. On. The. Computer."

"It could be a coincidence," Terry said, though he found that hard to believe. "…What do you need me to do?"

"Watch the police reports. Tell me if anything catches your eye. I'm sure my older self had you crunching numbers and doing data analysis," Bruce said dismissively as he walked to his car.

Robin shot him a look of what Terry was sure was pity before he got in the back seat. Ashamed by the stare, Terry faced the massive computer before his fingers began tapping hesitantly at the unfamiliar layout. Alfred rested a comforting hand on Terry's shoulder, which he almost shoved aside before realizing what it was. Terry continued to work.

* * *

The Batmobile raced down nearly deserted roads, with Batman making sure to take the most visible routes possible to scare off any looters trying to take advantage of the chaos. Sure enough, any time criminals caught sight of the machine, they scattered like rats, terrified of the possibility of being caught by the Batman.

It said a lot about how stressed Batman was that he didn't even try to find a place to stash the car, instead just parking directly on the curb before the two vigilantes rappelled up the building to meet with their friend.

Commissioner Jim Gordon was alone, waiting only with his now ritual cup of coffee and a thick manila folder.

"Jim" Batman greeted.

"Batman, Robin," Gordon nodded.

"It's not as bad as I thought," Robin chirped, "The whole panic in the streets thing that is."

"That's because the only ones stupid enough to go looting now are unaffiliated. This is the calm before the storm my friends," Gordon said wryly as he shoved his folder towards the two, "This should explain everything."

Batman flicked through the pages rapidly, murmuring softly as he did, "The mob's been telling everyone to stay quiet?"

"Mm-hmm," Gordon said, "They're afraid. Nothing this big has happened ever. Aliens? Well they're easy enough to deal with. Everything not human just needed to be shot. But those guys at Arkham? They scare the bejeezus out of them. They've been hiring muscle."

"So I see," Batman said before a photo caught his eye.

"Bane?" Batman asked, rubbing the old photograph, hoping to rid it of any dirt.

"Just found out from our deep-cover men in Black Mask's group. The Neo-Nazi's we've got around here have scraped up the cash to go get some of those wacked out hitters around too. There's rumors that people like KGBeast might be popping up here soon."

"Mercenaries from all over, wonderful," Robin moaned.

"They're after the 2 billion the Riddler took from the Asylum," Gordon explained.

"Nygma didn't take the money," Batman said, still engrossed in the file.

"I was afraid of that," Gordon puffed gloomily, "Now we have to protect that man too. No way we can keep him with the general population."

"General population? You're sending the inmates to Blackgate?"

"Only place we have room," Gordon shrugged, "The Governor's mobilized the National Guard to keep the peace, so my men can rest up a bit, but that's going to take a bit of time. Right now we've worked a schedule so they can sleep at Blackgate while they watch over Bolton to make sure he doesn't do anything funny."

"Bolton…" Batman said as he tried to place the name, "Lock-Up? You have Lock-Up watching over the inmates?" he demanded.

"Turned himself in to my boys as soon as he could Said that he's the only one who can keep them under control. I'm breaking all sorts of regulations here, but my men are stretched thin as it is already. He's being watched, but he's done good work so far."

"It's only been a few hours," Batman said, "He'll slip up. Don't forget what he did to you."

"I haven't forgotten," Gordon said bitterly. "But hell, any port in a storm is good right now."

"But still Jim-"

"You think I like doing this?" Gordon snapped. His temper had finally frayed before he shouted, "I have every officer on the force, even the ones I think are crooked trying to keep back a tide of murderers. I have the entire damn mob, every single family, gearing up for a war I don't think my people aren't equipped for, and all of those costumed nuts are keeping quiet. QUIET! Even now I'm wondering when I'm going to get the first report of Smilex and here you are in your fancy uniform, telling me off for trying to protect this city."

"I'll be seeing him before the night is over," Batman said before he made ready to leave, ignoring Jim's outburst. He was stressed, Batman understood.

"Before I go, how's your daughter?" Bruce asked.

"What? Barbara? She's fine. Tougher than her old man," he said in that way only proud fathers ever could.

"I'll keep an eye on the University for you," Batman promised, hoping his olive branch would be accepted.

"It would be great if you could, but my daughter is not important than this entire city," Gordon whispered as his face crinkled, "No matter how much I want to be otherwise."

"Stay safe Jim."

* * *

Terry was tapping hesitantly at the keys of the supercomputer too irritated by Bruce and frustrated by this antique. Terry might as well have been punching training dummies for all the good he was doing here. The maps of Gotham put into the computer were flashing red where hotspots of crime were reported, and it was all Terry could do to try and keep up. The only section of Gotham he was familiar with was Crime Alley and its surrounding blocks due to its nature as a "Site of Cultural Significance," in his time after Bruce miserably decided to hold onto his bad memories, and he was completely lost.

Alfred was off in another corner of the cave, filling up gas tanks and making supplies were more than adequate after Bruce had sent a request for the R-Cycle to be sent out. As such, he was of no help to Terry right now. The cave suddenly filled with a roar as a motorcycle screamed through the entrance and its helmet clad occupant jumped off quickly. Welcoming the distraction, Terry turned to face the newcomer.

Dick Grayson peeled off his jacket and helmet as he ran to the costume case before suddenly noticing a person he'd never seen before. He slid instantly into a fighting stance and stood ready to go before demanding "Who are you?"

Terry raised his hands in a gesture of peace before answering "It's complicated."

The two vigilantes stayed in that position for a few awkward moments before Alfred, rubbing his hands on a rag walked in on them. "Master Dick," he greeted courteously, "a pleasure as always."

"Ah, um, hey Alfred."

"There was no trouble on the way here I hope?"

"No, no. Everyone's trying to leave the city, not enter it. The cops didn't even care I broke triple digits on the way. They're too busy I guess," Dick answered.

Alfred sniffed disapprovingly at Dick's answer.

"It's a crisis isn't it? But that's not the problem here. Who's this?"

"Master Terry is a time displaced guest fifty years from now, where he has taken Master Bruce's role."

Dick digested this new information for a few seconds before sighing, "I can't believe I miss the days when all I had to worry about was getting shot by thugs. Now it's all aliens and time travelers and psychics."

He dropped his arms and made his way to his costume, pulling on the sleek armored suit and flicking on his domino mask. "Bruce say what he wants me to do?"

Terry was the one to answer that, "Glide around. Look intimidating. Scare people off, the usual."

"The usual when every single nut is free from Arkham?" Nightwing asked. "And where's Babs anyway?"

"She is at her university, unable to leave due to the lockdown there. The faculty believe that the Scarecrow may target the institution," Alfred gently replied.

"He's probably going to lie low for a few days so he can make enough of his fear toxin," Nighwing mused, "Alright, I'll grab a bike and head out. I'll call Bruce too. What's he doing anyway?"

* * *

Batman was at Stonegate, currently intimidating the guards and thugs. He'd sent Robin to go search for the Riddler and to report when he found any clues. Nigma was certainly smart enough to stay out of trouble, but with every lowlife in the city out to look for the mistakenly missing 2 billion, it was only a matter of time until someone got lucky enough, or was clever enough, to find and snatch the man away. And as much as it galled Batman to do so, he had to save Edward Nigma and take him to safety.

But Lock-Up had to be watched.

"Bolton," Batman greeted tersely.

Lock-Up didn't even look up at the sound, keeping his riot gun focused on the mass of convicts below.

Right now in the main yard, dozens upon dozens of tents were being set up to make room for the inevitable crowd of Arkham inmates that would be taken here. In addition to the prison guards that worked here, Commissioner Gordon had sent more than a few of his finest men to try and keep a form of peace. Wayne Enterprises, working on orders from Lucius Fox, had several of its charities send trucks of blankets, heaters, and all important food to bolster Stonegate's supplies while workers feverishly slaved to get things ready. All the while, police patrolled among set lanes with shotguns, ready to shoot.

The breakout spooked everyone Batman realized. He had to work quickly to calm things down, take away the jitters. If one thing went wrong, there would be a bloodbath here.

"Where are you going to keep everyone?" Batman demanded

"Tents are warm," Bolton sneered, "And we've got plenty of straitjackets and handcuffs."

"That's inhumane."

"It's temporary. We got brains figuring out who to take out from general pop. to put in the tents while we get the crazies in the cells. Got to figure out who's in what gang though. Apparently, we don't want these convicts to shank each other because of a mix up in the processing," Bolton said, obviously not thinking much of the idea.

"And I heard we might open up a military base out a few miles out that way," Bolton gestured, "in case we start running out of room."

Batman pored this over before asking a question he'd had his mind on for a while. "What about the special ones? Freeze? Ivy?"

"Freeze is going to one of the heavy duty freezers we got in the prison. We're just waiting on Wayne Enterprises to deliver some smaller ones so we can take out all the meat and crap inside. Ivy's not too much a problem as long as we keep her from plants, so I've gone and picked out the highest room in the tower. All full of scuffed up concrete and cold hard steel. And the rest? Eh, we'll figure it out."

"You'll figure something out now. I'm not going to have Killer Croc and his like eating workers because of poor protection on your part."

"Then why not ask your sky friends for help? I'm sure they've got some fancy electric cells us commoners don't have," Bolton mocked.

"You're smart enough Lock-Up. Figure it out… Bolton, just remember this. If I hear a hint of abuse from anyone, from a guard to the most murderous killer here, I will find you," Batman snarled.

"You have your job, I got mine," Lock-Up said coolly. "I'm just here to make sure none of these assholes get by. Bring me some new friends now why don't you?"

Batman jumped off the high walls of Stonegate and into the darkness below. He still had much to do.

* * *

Robin hummed a tune to himself as he found the third of Riddler's safehouses in the city. It was a simple place, a studio in Midtown used by office workers and the middle class. His hands worked quickly with his lockpicks and with a clack, he opened the window and snuck in. The studio was rented under the name of Paul Uzlear, a simple pun Robin worked out in a second. The other safe houses, while ransacked by criminals smart enough and placed highly enough to have real estate records, had no real clues or signs of struggle. In fact, the last one Robin checked actually had two thugs waiting by the door in case the Riddler came by.

He looked around; using the specially calibrated vision his domino mask offered him, smiling at the small question mark Riddler always used to mark his things. His obsessive behavior always betrayed him. The studio was a mess though, heavily plundered. Robin carefully made his way around before flicking on the lights.

Stacks of cheap paperbacks had been ripped from the shelves and the drawers in the room were flung open, leaving clothes behind everywhere. Riddler's trademark cane and hat were also on the ground. So… no clues here too? Well, that was a bummer. Robin turned to leave before noticing something out of place.

Several sets of puzzle toys, from back when Nigma had tried to go straight years ago were carefully untouched. Out of five, four were completed, and the fifth, straight in the center of it all was unsolved. Which made no sense. Riddler's sense of ego would never let him leave something like that alone. Which meant it was intentionally left behind. Robin grabbed hold of it, and carefully cradled it before taking a closer look at the room. It was hard to be sure, but he thought a set of plains clothes were missing. Robin glanced at the puzzle again before jumping out the window and rappelled up a nearby building. After making sure he was safe from prying eyes, Robin solved the puzzle easily enough, though he cursed Riddler for being so damn difficult with himself.

What kind of person needed to be so convoluted when asking for help anyway?

Robin inched a scrap of paper lodged in the working of the puzzle out slowly, making sure it wouldn't tear when it had revealed itself after finishing the thing and found an address hastily scribbled. He called Batman to tell him what he'd found before racing off to the marked location.

* * *

Batman found Robin waiting for him in front of an old train station. He ignored the rusting fences and nodded approvingly to Tim. Batman tossed him a high powered flashlight that he always kept in the trunk of the car. The two kicked open the doors and made their way in. Robin's flashlight lit up the shadows of the dusty room and found a set of footprints that had disturbed the place. Unafraid, Batman and Robin followed until they reached a locked room.

Batman had the courtesy of knocking, and waited until the door creaked open. Inside was a surprisingly cozy and clean room. A cot with a set of clean blankets was propped in the corner as was a faucet Batman would bet money still ran clean water. Stacked by threes, many sets of military MREs lined a wall. What caught his attention the most however, was Eddie Nigma, looking haggard.

"I didn't steal the money," was the first thing Riddler said.

"I know," Batman answered brusquely. "I'm here to take you to safety Nigma."

"That's a relief," he snapped. "I don't even know how this got pinned on me. I'm clever yes, but where's the fun in tricking computers? People are so much more fun."

"Nice place though," Robin admired.

"It's a bit low-tech for my tastes, but it's certainly off the grid. I hoped to never actually use this place. Do you know how bad these rations taste? Arkham provided better. There I could at least get real eggs."

Batman gestured for Riddler to come closer. When he obliged, he snapped a set of handcuffs around his wrists before beginning to prod him along.

"H-hey! These hurt. Where are you taking me anyway?"

"You're the genius Riddler. Figure it out."

Batman tossed Riddler in the back seat of the Batmobile before telling Robin to go on ahead. Without further fanfare, he drove off to city limits, signaling the Justice League along the way.

He was greeted later by Green Arrow, the de-facto leader of the group of non-superpowered heroes. Vigilante, Dr. Mid-Nite, and the Blue Beetle all stood by looking awkwardly at Batman as he almost dragged the puzzling criminal behind him.

"Take him to the Watchtower, keep him safe. I'll know if anything happens."

Abrutply as always, Batman walked back to his car, not waiting to hear Queen's answer.

"My City, my rules," he reminded the group before turning the engine over. The Batmobile squealed before racing back into Gotham.

"Nice guy isn't he?" Riddler asked.

Green Arrow glanced at the helpless villain before signaling to Dr. Mid-Nite. The man nodded before jabbing Riddler in the neck, making him fall unconscious.

"Not really."


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer- Batman Beyond not mine, DC not mine. Get it?

* * *

Everyone met down at the Cave at night's end. Terry had retired at three in the morning, thinking he couldn't do anything, but had forced himself up at five to talk to the rest along with Alfred, while Tim and Dick both yawned and looked down at the hard cave floor, tempted to just collapse. Of course, Bruce looked like he'd just gotten up fresh from a good eight hours of sleep despite the fact that he'd pushed himself harder than all of them.

The first thing he said to Terry was, "Training sessions are off until this crisis is over."

Terry had nodded in acquiescence, expecting it and listened carefully to the rest. Nightwing didn't have much to report, saying that the night was as quiet as it had ever been. It seemed that the rank and file goons of the Gotham nightlife were keeping silent, prepping themselves up for the massive war that would needlessly occur. Tim and Bruce had found Nigma apparently, and he was in safe hands, though Terry wasn't told just where he was.

Bruce, not showing any sign of impatience, spoke up again.

"What we need to do is get rid of any elements that are going to make this situation worse. Unfortunately, we have no shortage of problems and a lack of manpower. Batgirl refuses to come to the cave until Scarecrow has been taken care of. Nightwing, I'll leave that to you. Barbara can get in touch through the usual channels."

Nightwing licked his lips nervously before nodding, not trusting himself to speak. Talking to Babs was going to be awkward. Hell, he and Bruce still weren't on the best of terms just yet…

"Robin, during the daytime, scope out what you can on the streets. You're the one most used to figuring out the lowlife… I know it's asking a lot, but-"

"Say no more boss man!" Tim chirped. "I missed sleeping on the streets anyway."

"Kidding, kidding" he reassured his crowd when he saw the look on everyone's faces. "Thought we needed to lighten up a bit."

Bruce's mouthed twitched in response before going on. "Bruce Wayne is now on sabbatical. That said, I'm going to have to use him to put pressure on the governor. Lethal Force can not be authorized yet, and hopefully never. The harbors and airports need to be watched by me to stop the mercenaries before they enter the city, and we also need to figure out how to take down the likes of Joker before they act. Unfortunately, you know how difficult that is in the best of times."

"So who's coming?" Nightwing asked.

Bruce tapped a key on his wrist computer, and the massive computer behind him flicked on, showing a list of names and mug shots when possible.

Robin whistled. "Wow, not doing things by halves are we?"

Nightwing analyzed the situation. "So, the Yakuza and the Triads are trying to muscle in to take advantage of the chaos with these guys, and Italians and the Russians are trying to protect their territories, and all the street gangs are being hired out or combining to make their own mark. And… Neo-Nazis? Baron Blitzkrieg? Are you kidding me?"

"This is the possible list, no real confirmations besides Bane and a few others," Batman pointed out.

"We're never that lucky," Tim pouted.

Terry felt left out of the conversation, and butted in, asking "So don't we have any back up? I know you don't want the League, but we've got to have something. Robots? No? Anything?"

"Do you use those?" Bruce asked rhetorically.

"I get your point," Terry said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"This is as big a job for human resources as it is for us. Luckily, Lucius will have that covered. Now, go sleep, grab a meal. It's going to be a long next few weeks," Bruce said grimly.

Everyone got up, but Terry paused as Bruce called out his name.

"You're still not coming out. Don't forget that."

Saying nothing else, the Dark Knight left his cave.

* * *

Terry sighed again as he tapped a few more keys on the computer, feeling completely useless. Nightwing, Bruce, and Robin were all out in the city trying desperately to thin out the criminals before the inevitable eruption of chaos and here he was essentially messing around in a dank cave.

How annoying.

He let out a breath and blinked as a keystroke brought up some information he hadn't even intended to see. He read closely and felt his mouth tighten. Almost immediately after the breakout, a series of missing people's reports had been filed. What caught his attention the most was the fact that it was a group of Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts who were being driven home in a community bus by two assistant scoutmasters. They were young too. The oldest one missing was supposed to be nine years old! But the police, as stretched as they were, hadn't been able to do much but give some assurances they would be found, but…Terry brought up the GCPD database. Everyone, down to the lowliest Meter Attendants were on the streets or taking a refresher in the Police Academy, desperately trying to cram as much training as possible for the war about to break out. This was unacceptable.

Terry had never been a scout. Warren had been too busy trying to push Terry towards 'academic excellence and his dad could never have found the time to even take him to meetings if he'd been a member. But Matt… Matt used to be one for a few years, back when his mom and dad decided to try and succeed where Terry, the problem child, had failed. Of course, Matt being the annoying twip he was, lasted only a year before calling it quits. But still, Matt had fond memories of the meetings. And some of these kids were the only ones their parents had. They would be devastated if they lost their children.

Terry made his decision in a heartbeat. Even if Bruce would disapprove, well, forget the old man. He'd become Batman for a reason. If he couldn't stop criminals, the least he could do was go find some twerps. Even Bruce, heartless old bastard he might have been, couldn't say much against that.

Terry turned his chair and headed towards the garage levels, grabbing hold of a key. Motorcycles, now that was what he was talking about. Fifty years later they hadn't changed. Grateful for the familiar layout, Terry patted a bike fondly but froze as he heard Alfred speak. Where did he come from?

"Leaving Master Terry?"

Terry just nodded, not sure what to say.

Alfred sighed before making his way to a chair, making a 'come hither' gesture to Terry before plopping down. He glanced at Terry before asking "Well, what are you waiting for?"

"Um, sorry?" Terry asked, baffled by what Alfred was asking for.

"Oh children these days" Alfred mused with a grin. A hand stroked his pencil-thin mustache thoughtfully before falling down again. "What will I say to Master Bruce? That Master Terry disobeyed his direct orders? That he overpowered me when I asked him to stop? That the cur, ruthless boy he is, tied me to this horrible, yet incredibly comfortable chair before galloping off to parts unknown, most likely so that he can find himself being punched by big hairy men so that I may have the dubious pleasure of wrapping him like a mummy?"

Terry gaped before grinning. He took out cord of nylon before gently restraining Alfred, careful not to hurt the butler.

"Hmm, yes. Well done. Not too tight, not too loose," Alfred complimented, flexing his hands. "Now then, at least take a communicator with you please."

Terry obliged the man before taking off in his bike, reveling in the noise. The last thing he heard before the main cave disappeared into darkness was "And bring the cycle back with a full tank!"

As the screams of the bike died down, Alfred relaxed into his chair before giving a yelp.

"Damn! I should have asked him to put on a film. I was looking forward to Casablanca again…"

* * *

The integrated GPS did its job well, dropping Terry off where the scouts had left the meeting. Batman flicked his cowl to a special calibrated vision before filtering out all the unnecessary details given by the suit. He had the model van used by the scout masters, and tracked down the details of it all. He turned on the tracking device in the cycle, hoping to access the GPS now installed in many cars, hoping that he would be lucky enough that the car would have one. A few tense seconds passed before it pinged, Batman did some quick math before concluding it was probably a ten minute drive. Terry considered taking the bike before his manipulations revealed the car was not on a road, or any alleyways. He ditched it, remembering to turn on its stealth mode before grappling up the highest building in range after taking off the tracker. He held it up, trying to decide how to best move.

Batman jumped.

And he glided away.

It took a while, but Batman thought he'd gotten close. He came to a dingy street that seemed perfectly normal but… Batman smirked. Nothing was escaping his vision, no sir.

There was a massive hidden door that seemed to radiate light from its seams, which Terry wondered how anyone could miss before he set his vision back to normal.

Batman blinked several times, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness after the sheer red his cowl gave. The door was now perfectly hidden, but his fingers could make out the seams from touch. Grunting, Batman pushed hard, letting the suit's enhanced strength do most of the work before making his way in. The door shut and Batman found himself in darkness. Not much of a problem admittedly, Terry thought as he flicked on the night vision. The missing van was right next to him, now clear as day under the hood. Batman checked it, intrigued that the back of the car seemed to have been scuffed badly. A heavy weight pushed it down? But what would scouts have been carrying? Batman's eyes fell on a series of gashes that had torn the seats. His fingers traced the rough cuts. It was almost like a set of claws… were they carrying animals? But the cuts were so thick.

Everything else about the car looked fine though. Batman turned and went in deeper, checking his location on the GPS. He was underground obviously, but where exactly… oh yuck. Sewers again? God, last time here, he ran into Ratboy when he was trying to save Dana. Jeez, what, did the mole people kidnap the kids? Suddenly he was extremely grateful for his mask. No domino masks like Robin or half cowls like Bruce. Nope, he wasn't going to breathe in filthy sewage. But damn, this was a problem. The sewers were a maze. It was going to be like finding a needle in a haystack to grab those kids. Terry dropped a tracer on the hood of the car before making his way in. At the very least, he could find his way out.

Batman soon lost track of where he was. Apparently, the sewer maps weren't as accurate as the GPS reported, as he found dead-ends everywhere. Some of them seemed natural but others… it felt like someone was getting rid of any entrances. Like they were making a fortress. He shrugged before continuing. Eventually though, Batman removed his night vision, seeing a genuine light. Power all the way down here? Thinking quickly, he flicked on his camo before entering. Climbing quickly to get some height, Batman picked the biggest shadow he could find before turning his mike to the two men below in a massive and bright room.

Below was, huh, Killer Croc according to the computer. Well, it was the sewers, he should have expected that, but who was that other guy? And why was Croc looking ashamed?

"Don't threaten to eat them! That's not the way to work. Not the way to work!" screamed the man. He was haggard looking, and somehow had scrounged up a set of dusty looking pirate clothes while Croc was just in his Arkham issued orange jumpsuit with the top ripped off.

"Sorry boss," Croc mumbled, looking ashamed.

"Oh Croc, dear boy," the man said, reaching up to pat Croc's shoulders, "You can eat one later. Just not now. We need to scare them so more. Scare them," he repeated.

"…Kay, but shouldn't we, I dunno, give 'em food or somefing?" Croc asked.

"It's only been two days. Two! They can wait longer. And I gave them plenty of water didn't I? Yes, I did."

"But, it's sewer water. Even I don't drink that stuff," the man said looking confused.

"Oh dear Croc, that's because you're better than them. Better than all of those nasty surface people. Here, with me, your Sewer King, you'll be my First Mate. My knight. Don't you worry about them," the pirate reassured. "Now, let's go see our old friends. Well, my old ones. I think all these years have made them forget about me. We'll need to discipline those nasty alligators. With your help of course. Your help. The sewers are filled with treasure you know. That's why we need these kids, so we don't dirty our selves. Dirt is bad. Bad."

With that, the Sewer King led out his new henchman, intent on showing him what baubles he'd hidden away before his arrest.

Batman had heard enough. The name Sewer King was tracked down and… child slavery? That was… that was…

Unforgivable.

Batman saw red, and suddenly all he wanted to do was reach down and grab that man's face. He'd squeeze, feeling the man's skull cave in as his brains were turned into so much gray pulp and… no. No. Batman would not do that.

_But think of Matt._

Batman gulped. His brother, he was the same age as those orphans had been years ago when the Sewer King had first surfaced. The idea that his brother might go through something similar was horrifying. Sure this old coot was probably dead in his time, but these kids. No one deserved this. Batman focused his anger though. Saving it, bottling it up for when he would take down the man. He'd be a bit rougher than usual, but first he had to see to those kids. The only way through was the door. He grasped the rusty thing and pulled. Inside was a room of pure darkness. He could only see them all by turning on his night vision.

"What do you want?" asked one. It was the girl scoutmaster. Her shirt had been torn off, and she was nursing the boy scoutmaster whose right leg had been mauled. Around her were all the missing children, who'd bunched up together looking like they were about to be beaten. The girl had used her own shirt to act as a bandage. Batman wondered why she sounded so resigned and frightened before realizing her night vision must have been in tatters. Pure darkness plus light meant she would be nearly blind for a few moments.

"I," Batman began. "I'm here to get you out."

The huddled children near the two adults looked up hopefully.

"It's not a joke. I-I'm Batman. And I've been looking for you all."

"Lying or not, I guess it doesn't make a difference right now. You might be the Sewer King again, but I don't even care right now," the girl said weakly.

Batman took a step forward before remembering something. "You haven't eaten in a while right? And that leg doesn't look good."

Batman took out a ration bar and a small bottle. "This is all I have for food, I'll get you more when I take out those two outside, and this should help with the infection."

The girl blinked before looking up at Terry more closely. Her vision was returning. "You, are you serious?"

"It's been two days and you've lost hope already? Come on, this is Gotham. I'm always around," Batman soothed.

And of course Bruce had to take that exact moment to butt in through the comm..

"Where are you!"

Batman winced before looking apologetic. "Sorry, hang on one sec," as the kids looked astounded.

"Busy."

"Not an answer," said Bruce promptly.

"In the sewers. Check case file uh, 4682. It's the last one I looked at before I left," Batman said hurriedly.

A few precious seconds of silence ticked by before Bruce, no doubt having figured out everything snapped "You found them? In the sewers? Is it the Sewer King?"

"Man you're fast. Yeah it's him. Plus a friend of yours. Killer Croc," Batman answered.

"I'm on my way now," Bruce said before Batman cut him off.

"No you won't. You're at the mansion and it'll take you a while to come. And you can't track me can you? After all, I found all your little toys."

Bruce stewed for a few seconds before asking "What do you want?"

"Man, you're making me sound like the bad guy. I'm just trying to help these guys. I'll take out those two, you call the cops, and we can all go and share pina coladas in the morning. Or whatever it is you drink."

Batman could almost see the scowl Bruce must have had right now as the man gritted "I'll be listening to everything you say."

Batman looked back down at the group in front of him. "Now, just hang on a bit longer. I'll find those two and we can get you-"

He looked back as the door began to crack open and shot upwards with his grapple gun. Batman's lips curled in disgust as he looked at the Sewer King strutting in.

"Now, now children, have you learned your lessons? Are you ready to work for me? If you work, you can eat. Eating is quite good you see," he said genially. "If you eat, you can… what's this?"

The Sewer King reached down to pick up the unopened ration bar, looking at it closely.

"This is surface food! Croc! Your king needs your oof-"

Batman had fallen directly on top of the man and snarled "Remember me?" as he smeared goo over the man idly, slipping a tracking bug on him all the while.

"B-b-batman!" the King stammered, not even noticing the movement due to his fear, before Batman cracked his head down against the cement.

He could hear Croc roar and Batman didn't disappoint. The huge man had broken into a charge which he met head on, dipping low and tackling the man's legs, bringing the two down.

"You ain't the Bat!" Croc screamed, thrashing madly.

Batman was forced away before he responded "Sorry to disappoint."

"Grargh!" Croc roared before trying to punch Batman. Terry parried and dodged a few blows before landing an uppercut, staggering Killer Croc.

"Batman ain't this strong either. Who are you?"

"I'm the one kicking your but. That's not enough for you?" Batman quipped.

Croc let out another feral roar, his wide sweeping arms threatening Batman. He bought some distance, backflipping back, before hurling a few batarangs, only to watch them bounce off Croc's thick almost scaly skin.

"What the hell! That should have at least cut you!" Batman said incensed.

"Gahahahaha," Croc laughed, "Little bat can't hurt big Croc."

"Keep laughing tough guy," Batman mocked before hurling a flash bomb at his face.

As Croc staggered and swung wildly hoping to catch Batman, Bruce screamed into Batman's ear.

"What are you doing? Watch him and stay quiet. And don't forget the hostages."

"Working on it," Batman snapped.

"Who you talkin' to Bats!"

"Your mom. She's telling me some funny stories about you Croc. Is it really true you just tried to pass your thing as a 'skin condition?'" Batman asked before cursing himself. A 'Your mom' joke? Seriously Terry? That's all you can come up with?

Croc stopped pawing at the air to turn to where he thought Batman was before petulantly saying "It is a skin condition. The Docs all say so."

"Did you bring a note young man?" Batman asked, wagging a finger like a teacher chastising a student. As he started to run back to Croc, he turned at the sound of one of the kids.

"Batman!"

He saw the Sewer King running away from the room, forgetting even the idea of hostages, hoping he would lose Batman in the confusion. Batman readied a Batarang but flew back as a massive hunk of rock slammed into his chest. Another rock slammed into the first, burying Batman beneath their combined bulk.

"I got 'im? I got 'im! Rock beats _everything_!" Croc whooped.

"Not… quite," Batman gritted as he shoved the heavy rocks aside.

"You not done yet? I got more Bats!" Croc yelled, feeling victory in his grasp.

As soon as Croc lifted his chunk of masonry up high, Batman fired his grapple gun, feeling its tip sink deep before beginning to pull. The two began a tug of war before Batman quickly retracted his grapple and dashed forward while the now unbalanced Killer Croc swayed. He sideswiped Croc's legs, forcing the rock to fall on his own body before slamming Croc with a series of heavy blows until Killer Croc, relying on old instincts grabbed Batman and began to squeeze.

"I got ya. I got ya. Igotyaigotyaigotyaigotya," Croc repeated, as though it was a mantra.

"Hey…Croc," Batman slurred, seeing spots in his vision. "You like heights?"

"Eh, what?"

Batman kicked in his rocket boots and sent them both up flying into the thick stone and metal ceiling. Croc's bigger frame ensured he took the most damage before the two men dropped. Croc too took the blow again, and now nearly senseless, offered no resistance as Batman kicked the man's arms away and got up before cracking his back, trying to work out the kinks the heavy squeeze had forced up.

Killer Croc, dazed but not out, grabbed hold of the chance again, and threw Batman against the ground, thinking the rocket boots would be of no help when horizontal.

Batman finally sighed as Croc's weaker grip scrabbled around his suit, threatening to tear the flexible material before flicking a switch on his belt.

Croc howled as electricity arced around his body before finally falling, now truly unconscious.

Batman cuffed Croc before going back to the children and the adults. "You're alright now. Let's get you all home. The police are on their way," Batman assured.

"Wh-what about him?" The kids asked. Batman knew exactly who they were talking about and just smiled in response.

He lifted up the beeping remote he'd used to find the car, "Oh, I'll find him."

* * *

The Sewer King didn't stop to catch a breath until he was sure Batman was out of range. Batman. Here. Unbelievable. Shouldn't he have been busy trying to catch Joker or the like? Why waste time on him? All he was doing was giving children a new home out of the generosity of his heart.

The King moaned, as he realized his misfortune. Oh everything had gone wrong. Sure he'd convince Croc to follow him, but his home had been wrecked by time, his precious pets had all forgotten him (he had the scars and torn clothes to prove it) and he had no weapon to fight Batman off. He whimpered at the slightest noise, from the drips in drains to the scurrying rats all around him. He cowered at any shadow even resembling a bat and yelped at even his own footsteps.

Something whizzed by and slammed into the metal pipe in front of him as he squealed and ducked. He looked up and with shaky fingers, pried the strange object off its home. Something black and red, shaped like… a… bat…

Pain assaulted him as a clawed hand grabbed his head and shoved him into the wall. The Sewer King grasped at thin air, hoping to dissuade Batman from killing him before the stars in his vision vanished and he realized he was all alone.

Batman was taunting him.

Batman was hunting him.

"Please! I didn't- Just take me in already!"

He received no answer. Batman obviously wasn't interested in talking. He'd just have to crawl out of the sewers and find the police himself, before that lunatic killed him. Oh God, he hoped Batman wouldn't kill him.

He came across an open passageway above a pit where the water collected. The Sewer King recognized it as a place for his former pets congregated, and sure enough he could make out the green hides flickering in and out of the rancid water. Still, he was almost home free. The manhole was only two hundred feet away. Not so bad if he-

Dark hands came down and lifted him up to a face that could have been carved from hell.

"Do you know what I think of people like you?" the creature asked.

"Y-yes!" he squeaked.

"Then," the creature grinned ferociously, "Enlighten me."

The Sewer King stammered until Batman's eyes narrowed. "I'm scum! The lowest of the lowest of the low. Lower than even-"

"That's enough."

"Yes!"

"Then what should I do with you," hissed the demon. "Batman doesn't kill you see, but I am sorely tempted."

"The same as last time then," the King tried to joke.

Batman froze for a second before letting out a breath that came out as a whisper of hate. "Very much so. In fact…" Batman murmured before falling down onto the railing with his prisoner. He dangled the Sewer King off the side of the railing, exciting the alligators below as chunks of metal and rock fell from the sudden landing.

"You know," Batman said, his voice now surprisingly conversational. "My arm got strained fighting your flunky back there. Croc is pretty tough, you see," he explained.

"No, please, don't!"

"Why," Batman asked, his voice now hard.

"I-I won't do it again! I'll ask the judge for community service, I'll give back everything I stole that's still here, just please, for the love of God don't-"

The Sewer King shut up as Batman tossed him high with inhuman strength, knowing he was dead. He shut his eyes, hoping his end would be quick when a roar of engines filled the air and he found himself hovering, as Batman grabbed him by the collar of his coat.

"I am always going to watch you. Never forget that."

* * *

Terry clambered up the closest building, not the least surprised to see Bruce's scowling form waiting for him.

"You disobeyed my orders," Bruce said.

Terry sighed, resigned to his fate, "I did."

"You didn't listen to me when I told you to come back."

"No, I didn't listen."

Bruce was silent as he looked at the three man police crew and the firefighters do their jobs. "When you were alone with the Sewer King," Bruce began quietly, "I thought you were going to kill him."

Anger flushed through Terry's body before he forced it down, saying "I didn't though… but I wanted to so much."

Bruce cocked his head to the side, taking in Terry's form and drinking in the details. Uncomfortable by the silence, Terry started to talk, feeling like he had to justify himself.

"It's just… I have a brother the same age as those kids down below," Terry said, pointing to a boy now poking his head out of the street, "And he's annoying, and loud, and God, I wish he'd let me sleep in, but… he's my brother. And I love him."

Bruce said nothing.

"Bruce, my Bruce, the old grumpy man told me once, that I make Batman worth it. That because of me, Batman is worth the title it's been known for and you know, that made me wonder. If it's not Batman that makes me worth my life, but the other way around, what is it that makes me smile, and live, what does? Then I knew instantly, and I thought I was so dumb for not knowing sooner. It's my friends, my family. It's Max, and Matt, and Dana, and my mom, and so many others. And for them, I would do anything."

Terry finished and looked to the skyline. Dawn would be breaking soon, and he wondered if he would see it. He ignored Bruce now thinking of the family and friends he'd left alone in the future, wondering how they were.

"Starting tonight, you will patrol with me."

Terry couldn't believe his ears. He turned to Bruce lightning fast, expecting the man to take back his words.

Bruce opened his mouth again, and his voice was now so soft, Terry had to strain his ears to hear them.

"Good job."


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Not my crap as you well know. DC owns everything.

-  
More out of habit than necessity, Victor Fries sat in a warehouse used by food retailers, ignoring the raw and frozen meat surrounding him, cradling a snow globe in his hands. He… he hadn't meant to kill those people during his escape, he'd… no that was wrong.

He had been alone for months, locked away in a room meant for a being far bigger than he, trapped in his helmet, having lost every part of his body after that damnable decay. Freeze wondered if he'd gone insane during the silence. For countless weeks, Mr. Freeze and his brilliant mind had done nothing but stare into the icy walls of his cell with nothing to do but reflect on Nora, Nora, Nora. And then, that blackout had come one day, Freeze's eyes had burned into that dark wondering if he'd died when the next thing he knew, he was on his old armor again, electric impulses giving him false limbs to move. So yes, Freeze had taken joy in his freedom, bursting out of the halls of Arkham and even killing those people aboard the helicopter as they shined down their spotlights to root him into place.

Victor wondered if he'd gone really gone crazy. Insane enough to actually belong in Arkham. How had he even come to this? By all rights Victor should be happy! Nora was alive and well, even if he'd never worked up the sheer courage needed to see her. Even if she'd... remarried.

Microservos whirrled as powerful metal hands, strong enough to crush skulls, daintily lifted his snow globe and shook it gently, before Fries' eyes stared at the ballerina inside. Watching the fake snow fall, Victor rested his domed head on the glass. What to do, what to do... should he turn himself in? Escape the country again? Fries sighed.

"Nora."

* * *

Belio Galante looked unfazed in his flawlessly pressed Gucci suit at the crazy duo in front of him. Scarface the puppet was an infamous story amongst the Gotham Nightlife, an example of what happened when a normal man was pressed too far, but Arnold Wesker had beaten his disease and gone on to be a 'Productive Member of Society.' Which didn't explain why this perfectly normal looking flunky was holding the puppet and looking intimidated by it. Jesus, was the damn thing cursed? Still didn't explain how the things had gotten so many people to work for him. Still, orders were orders.

"So ya see," Belio started "Mr. Galante wanted us to join forces you know? After all, these are dangerous times and hey, I know you got yourself a loyal crew ready to give whoever a good thumping."

The kid was good, Belio noted. He couldn't make out any sign of moving lips as he said "Hey dummy, what you looking at this dummy for? I'm the brains here!"

Belio was tempted to just walk out before soothing the damned crazy bastard. A few seconds of sanctimonious ass-kissing later however apprently bought himself Scarface's 'Good Graces,' what a joke.

"You know what Galante? I like you. So I'll give you ten seconds to walk out before I pump you fulla lead."

"Oh no Scarface," the flunky begged, "we can't do that!"

"Shaddup dummy, I'm the boss remember?"

Galante finally sighed before snapping his fingers, sending half a dozen of the Galante Famiglia's finest into the room with rifles at the ready before taking out his own pistol. "Jesus H. Christ, no wonder my old man hate you crazies guts."

Before Scarface or his flunkies could react, Belio sent two rounds into the puppet's torso, shattering the thing and making the mook scream at his bleeding hand before another double tap of his pistol silenced the man.

"Alright you sacks of crap! Starting now, you work for the Galante Famiglia. You can consider yourselves associates, and by god if anyone, even a soldier tells you to jump, you don't even fucking ask how high," Galante snarled to the assorted men surrounding him. The men being professional took their boss' murder with grace, exiting calmly, a few even tipping their hats to Galante as a show of respect. Belio looked at the emptying room before stomping on Scarface's head, taking pleasure as the the wood cracked and was turned into so many splinters. Shit, the mob should have done this years ago.

* * *

Bane stepped out onto the harbors of Gotham distastefully before being meeting his welcoming party. A group of five grimfaced men with no visible weapons stepped into the gaze of the massive mercenary before a leader raised his arms in welcome.

"I am Vittoreo Maroni. Welcome back to Gotham Bane."

"Hmph, the city is the same as every I see," Bane noted with a smile. Oh yes, there was something about Gotham City that spoke to the criminal soul, even with the always present threat of the Batman.

"Yes, yes, this cesspit of crime and vice is always waiting for people like you Signor," Maroni ribbed. "Now then, you know why you were called?"

"My money," Bane demanded, obviously not intending to say much more unless he had proof.

A man brought an attache case before Bane, sliding it into view and staying out of arm's reach of the dangerous Mexican. Smart man really, Bane noted. Not even bothering with the combination, he flicked it open, locks and all, and grunted in satisfaction at the rows of bills before dumping it all in a bag of his own, not trusting the case.

"Half upfront, half later. Just as promised."

"Well then, how may I help the Maroni family?" Bane asked, knowing exactly what it was Maroni wanted.

"Oh, you know, bodyguard duties, an assassination here or there, protection mostly."

Bane let out a laugh not unlike the bark of a dog before saying "I was not aware that such blatant weakness was allowed in this city. Perhaps I should be taking advantage no?"

Maroni let out a polite cough, not sure what to make of him.

"Well, ha ha, I'm afraid the situation is rather different now. Those... madmen at Arkham were always unstable, and with this many loose, Mr. Maroni fears losing control of our territory. With all this chaos, people might just decide the time is ripe for eh, aggressive expansion. I must admit I am surprised you've taken our offer. I thought you might have sided with the maybe the Burnley Town Massive or the many street gangs around here, they are more your kind after all."

Bane ignored the racist remark, fully aware that crime was the most prejudiced and racist job of all before saying "They could not afford my fees. Pride is one thing, money is another."

Maroni burst into laughter at that "Ha ha, right you are. Right you are."

Leading Bane to a stretch limo, Maroni held the door open for the intimidating mercernary while the others entered their own cars. Bane leaned back into the leather seats and closed his eyes counting his supply of Venom leaned back into the leather seats and closed his eyes. Soon, very soon, he told himself.

He would break the Bat.

* * *

Penguin locked the doors to his office in the Iceberg Lounge before sitting back on his specially made chair, idly rubbing the haft of one of his omnipresent umbrellas, musing over the past few days. Not one bit of good news was forthcoming so far. He'd made his fortune from smuggling and dealing information, staying out of the more relatively common pastimes of theft after all the trouble that had brought Batman, but this was going to be troublesome.

He lit a cigarette and took in a big puff, letting the smoke gather before exhaling. It had taken a lot of work to get out of Stonegate after that Batwoman affair, much money had been spent greasing the axles of his early release, and his memories of that damned prison still smarted. Oswald Cobblepot was tempted to leave the incoming war alone, too intimidated by the prospect of going back again. But as much as he wanted to stay out of it and play it safe, Penguin knew that would not be the case. He was too well-connected, too well-known, he was going to be pressured into joining a group.

It would take a lot of maneuvaring to stay ahead of this avalanche. He flicked his lighter over and over again, not caring that he was wasting the fluid inside before leaning back into his comfortable chair. He had plenty of assets certainly, better connected than half these families combined. He knew the ways of the metahuman mind and had more than a few links to several of the less unsavory types. The problem was, if he tried bringing that sort of firepower in, it would attract the wrong attention. Sticking to smuggling was going to be hard, as the cops were watching every port and harbor as tight as they could, and it had taken Penguin quick maneveurs before grabbing the few drug shipments inbound to Gotham out of sight from the GCPD. Sure those bastards were overstretched, but they were still amongst the best police force in the world. They had to be to even compete with the Gotham criminals. Penguin still had a tightly wound crew of leg breakers, equipped with the best weapons money could buy, and the Iceberg Lounge was a veritable fortress, both literally and metaphorically. Everyone knew messing with the Penguin was bad news.

Of course, everyone was waiting for the chance to knock the infamous Cobblepot off his throne, especially after Stonegate.

He was almost lost in his thoughts when his phone rang. Knowing only a select few had his direct line, Cobblepot picked it up without a second thought.

"Penguin."

Damn.

Damn. Damn. Damn.

"You do as I say and nothing more. You do that, and you may get out of his mess with your hands as clean as they can get... for an upstanding citizen like yourself."

The call disconnected and Penguin stared at the receiver like it was diseased before slamming it down, his frustration finally reaching his peak. The old phrase 'Damned if you do, damned if you don't' trickled into his mind despite his efforts.

Teeth clenched, Oswald Cobblepot could only grit "Batman."

* * *

Floyd Lawton picked a piece of particularly juicy crab with a toothpick. He edged it out between the crevasses of his teeth before he flicked it inside and swallowed with a grin. He leaned back in his chair and propped up his feet on the table, waiting for his newest customer to talk.

The bodies of no less than seven men littered the floor around him.

Yuri Dimitrov cracked open another crab leg with his fingers and let some juice flick out before he lifted the meat to his mouth. This continued on for sometime, not really anything Lawton, better known as Deadshot, hadn't expected. He was trying to show that Dimitrov had all the power. Well good for him.

The defeat of my men was unnecessary, the quiet man said.

First language to throw off his opponent. Stupid. Did Dimitrov really think Lawton wouldn't have picked it up during his travels?

Not dead. Just… hurt. Will get up in a bit, Deadshot said smoothly, though inwardly he cursed to himself for the flawed Russian. Did Yuri notice?

The slight pulling of his lips told Lawton that yes, Dimitrov knew exactly what Lawton had tried and just found himself amused.

"Do you understand the particulars of your contract?" Dimitrov asked in slowly enunciated English. Yet another 'flaw' which Deadshot knew was fake. The man had studied at Princeton and Deadshot knew he was capable of more.

"No. You told me come with a down payment of ten grand. That was enough."

"How did you come to be free? Last I checked, you were in Belle Reve slated for execution."

"Killed enough people for Uncle Sam to cut me a deal. Gave some people who were poor in bullets a few and here I am," Lawton said.

"What I am about to request of you is much the same."

"Doubt it."

"When the streets are fighting, take up vantage point. Kill anyone who seems like a leader. Assassination requests will also come."

"Falcone right." Deadshot said, not asked.

"When the time is right," Dimitrov said with a slight smile.

Deadshot considered his options. Really, this would be his first big job after his release from the Task Force. If he played his cards right, he could find himself back on top of the game!

"Let's do it."

Jonathon Crane was doing research.

* * *

He'd made a few modifications to his toxins and was hoping to see some promising results. Admittedly he was running out of participants faster than he'd expected but really, it couldn't be helped. Science was science. It demanded total attention and would leap above whatever naïve expectations one expected. Rather much like a woman, Crane mused. Or at least, that was the sort of crass comment he'd heard so much during his incarcerations. Crane never really had time for women really. Or men. Friends. People. He had his studies. And dealing with people always led to pain anyway.

"Subject shows no deviation from expected norms. Results are disappointing. The base is sound, but I need something bigger. At this rate however, I shudder to think I will have to recreate the formula from scratch. The used components just aren't producing what I need," he said into an old-fashioned tape recorder as he picked through the participant's kitchen. He tutted at the lack of any fresh foods. No wonder this one was so obese. He was no nutritionist, but subsiding on such fatty foods would lead to an early death.

Left with no choice, Crane took out a can of ravioli and punched a few numbers into the microwave.

"Oh God! That smell, d-dad, y-y-you've come home."

Crane perked up and dashed towards his participant weeping on the floor.

"Mommy says that whiskey is bad for you daddy. She-ahhh!"

"Olfactory components seeing possible success. Awaiting further responses," Crane breathed excitedly into his recorder.

"Obvious parental abuse from his father. Participant seems to have fondness of his mother. The smell of alcohol apparently features prominently. Helps explain the lack of any such beverages in this domicile,' Crane noted.

He was disappointed though, as the participant trailed off into incoherent blubbers and was unable to make out a single word. He was fairly certain primal fears of darkness featured in there somewhere, along with other childhood horrors, but the man was, quite frankly, too big a mess.

The microwave dinged.

Crane shot the crying man another look before heading to grab his meal. He'd seen success tonight, and now he just had to refine it. Any further observations could be had at the dining table, where he'd be given a good look.

Crane chuckled. How kind of this participant to be the gracious host. Dinner and a show.

His long fingers scrabbled at the lid, but failed to make purchase. Growling, he grabbed a fork and jabbed it onto the top and used it as a lever. With a grunt, he'd popped up the lid and pulled back, revealing the steaming food. Disgusted with all the sugary drinks that the participant kept, he helped himself to tap water, reassured that the man at least kept a filter on it. After what Joker had done to the city water, such filters were a necessity in Gotham.

Crane himself was surprised at how hungry he was, noting how quickly the food disappeared down his throat before wiping off his lips using a napkin. He was debating seconds when a foul stench permeated his nose. Crane sighed as he took up his recorder again and headed over to the now still man.

"Cardiac Arrest. Time of Death… 8:04 PM Eastern Seaboard. Participant's heart could not take the stress brought on by the toxin. His death also most likely had a heavy factor in his obesity. Mental note to self. Eat healthy."

Crane thumbed the button before he went to the bathroom and straightened his noose. He gave his reflection a shy smile before putting on his mask. The Scarecrow's rictus sneer stared back.

It was time to leave and find a new test subject. Who knows? Maybe this time, they would be volunteers.

* * *

Harleen Quinzel, preferably known as Harley Quinn sighed before a glance at the window next to her. No response.

She sighed again. Louder.

Again, no response. Harley debated sighing even louder than before until she decided it would be useless. She'd already done just about everything to get Mistah J's attention. She'd sang, danced, told a funny joke she'd heard someone say (that one actually got her a slap on the face, so you know, progress), and she'd even tried putting on some sexy number that just got her lecherous grins from a few goons and a couple of very full hyenas.

Really now, he'd been like this ever since they'd blown the old joint and came to yet another abandoned factory (and geewhiz how many of those things did Gotham have anyway? What did, the place have a factory that made abandoned factories or something?")

Mistah J had parked himself right out a window and just sat there looking like stone. He'd even gotten himself a pure black outfit instead of his so much nicer looking purple duds. Yuck, so much gloom around the place. Leave that to Batman.

So Harley had manned up (so to speak) and gone to grab hold of impressionable young minds with the promise of cash and violence to their persons if they did not join. She got lots of people. Good times. With nothing to do however, Harley took out a nail file and started whittling them down to a manageable size as she whistled the most annoying song she could think of to try to snap her beloved Puddin' out of his funk. She hadn't seen the man move to go use the john or even eat! Must have been some kinda superpower or something. She had to admit that he looked pretty swank though. His brooding good looks framed around the moon contrasted with his pearl-white skin, looking kind of like this vampire she'd heard lots about and whoa was it getting hot in here or what?

Her thoughts trailed off however, when the Joker turned around from his comically undersized swivel chair to face her.

"Harley," he said sadly, looking very haggard.

"Yes Puddin'?"

"I'm so… so… angry-sad. I mean, Arkham wasn't the nicest digs sure what with all the leaky pipes, the communal showers, and that nasty Bat always waiting around the corner, but those animals! It was my home. My place of zen. They-they blew up! You Maniacs! You blew it up! Ah, damn you! God damn you all to hell!" Joker screamed as he frantically pinwheeled his arms before sagging.

"You alright Mistah J?" Harley cautiously asked.

Her beloved shot her an angry look that sent flutters up her belly and Harley could only give a dopey grin in return.

He held the gaze for a few seconds before his infamous smile returned in full force.

"Alright? I'm better than alright! I'm a man with a plan Harley. Sure I lost my house, but hell, no one else is going to use it now! More room for me."

"You mean us?"

"No. Maybe. If you are very lucky Harley," Joker said.

"Now, first things first. Do we have mooks? Goons? Lovable rogues that exist to be killed off for fun?"

"Yeppers! Waiting right outside."

"Wonderful! Now Harley, be a dear and get me a phone."

"We, uh, kinda don't have power Puddin'. No phone," Harley admitted sheepishly.

Joker jumped up and got in her face before giving her a peck on her nose.

"Well, I'm sure one of those nice young men outside have one of those fancy doodads called cell phones," he said kindly.

"Who do you want me to call?" Harley asked shyly.

"Zhao's House of Wok. They have some good Lo Mein, and I tell you Harley, planning a scheme to murder thousands is tough work on an empty stomach. Grab an order of that and some Kung Pao Shrimp. Oh, and call Firefly after that."

"Sure thing Mistah J!" Harley saluted. "What are you going to do?"

"I," Joker began dramatically, flourishing a finger like a sword before pointing at the air. "am going to the little boy's room. Got some backage I should clear up."

Harley nodded quickly and turned to leave when the Joker called her back. She pirouetted with a graceful twirl to face her wonderful Joker when she found herself on her black, her face screaming in agony.

Mistah J was massaging his fist with a menacing looking grin as he snarled "Don't hum such raucous ditties. Granny Joker would be ashamed."

"Well, all I got to say Harley. Toodles! I'll see you in a bit. Bring food so we can enjoy it together. You like candlelit dinners right? Soon I'll give you one you won't ever forget!"

* * *

So this was dead, but now it's alive again. I know it's not much of an update after so long, but I do have plans for this and don't plan on dropping it. See you soon with a new chapter, and thanks for keeping hope that it'll stay alive. In fact, I'll be nice and give you a hint. Next time we get to see Terry fight off a JLU enemy along with Batgirl and one Dr. Crane.


End file.
